


A Memory of Distant Stars

by Czigany



Category: Final Fantasy X, Mass Effect
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 23:17:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Czigany/pseuds/Czigany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The two years between Mass Effect 1 and 2 weren't just spent in limbo. Waking up in Spira with no ship, no crew, no weapons, and no bloody clue what's going on, Shepard will have to survive with just a partially-functioning omnitool and the suspicion that she's already technically dead. Updates sporadically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awakening

Suffocating to death was painful, though at least the chill of space helped to numb the agony. Still, Shepard’s last coherent moments were practically peaceful as her body gave up and her mind drifted, staring at the stars and the remains of the Normandy around her.  
  
It was rather an abrupt shock, then, to find herself waking again, gasping for air. Finding it, she struggled to calm herself, regulating her breathing and opening her eyes to take stock of her surroundings. When she finally got a good look around, she groaned and wondered if she wouldn’t have been better off staying dead.  
  
She was in the middle of what appeared to be a large, partially-submerged ruin. She shivered reflexively as the wind howled through the rocks and lightning flashed overhead. Looking down, she realised she was soaking wet, thankfully dressed in familiar black armour though her weapons were missing. Crawling up onto her little spit of land so that she was fully out of the water, she frantically checked for her omnitool. She breathed a sigh of relief as the familiar orange glow lit over her left arm. Idly, she felt for her comlink receiver, unsurprised to find it issuing nothing but static.  
  
Turning back to her omnitool, she noticed parts of it seemed to be glitching. She was about to run a diagnostic when the wind whipped across her little island once more. Fingers shaking slightly, she instead worked at getting the area mapping program running. While it processed, she unclipped her helmet from her hard suit, cheeks pinking in the sharp wind. With only slightly clumsy fingers, she refit her oxygen tube. When her omnitool pinged, she relatched her helmet and routed the map display to her visor. She was relieved to see several larger islands nearby and steeled herself for the swim.  
  
She made first for a larger island to the east, staggering up stone steps to find no real shelter aside from a few crumbling pillars. Bright marks on one of the pillars caught her eye and she passed her omnitool over the unfamiliar writing for a translation. When it yielded nothing but gibberish she sighed, hoping that if she met another being on this strange world they at least spoke something she could understand.  
  
As she turned to leave, her bearings on another island to the west, she saw the glint of metal from the base of the graffitied pillar. Reaching down, she saw it was a credit chip of some kind. Pocketing it to observe later, she resumed her quest for shelter from the brewing storm.  
  
The western island was less sheltered than the eastern even, but she climbed up onto it for a relief from the drag of treading water in armour. Her omnitool beeped softly as she explored the meagre spit of land and she checked it to see that it had picked up on another piece of graffiti and was comparing the two in an attempt to crack what it apparently recognised as a cipher. Leaving the machine be, she moved to open a curiously intact wooden chest, pleasantly surprised to find two small packets of medigel in it. Although she wondered at their placement, she added them to her stock and set out south, heading for the last of the islands likely to have adequate shelter.  
  
Shepard was shivering again, the chill in the air soaking through despite her armour’s airtight protection as she carefully walked narrow, dangerous walkways. When she spotted a dark shape in the water below her and the stones she was on rumbled in warning, she didn’t hesitate to sprint forward, leaping to the relative safety of a half-destroyed wall as the path she’d just been on crumbled into the cold waters. Sparing it little more than a glance, she turned to make her way inside the ruined building.  
  
When she pushed through the fallen stones to the interior of the building, she found she had entered on the balcony level of a small colosseum. Out of the biting wind, she immediately began to warm up. Still, she spotted wood piled in the center of the arena floor and a fire would be welcome for more than just heat.  
  
The crunch of gravel beneath her boots was muffled; the only sound aside from the steady rush of water coming from the waterfall she could see hitting the floor below. She grimaced and tried to step more carefully, wary of the crumbling masonry around her.  There was another abandoned chest just to her right, and opening it revealed an odd double pack of medigel. Resolving to look at it later, she stowed it in one of her ammo packs and continued along the balcony towards the archway further on.  
  
She found herself at the landing of a partially-ruined staircase. Strangely enough, there was a withered bouquet of flowers in a small alcove there. Rationalising that there was no such thing as too much fuel in a place like this, Shepard plucked the crisp stems from their vase and continued down the staircase. There was another chest at the bottom, and she peeked inside to find what looked at first glance to be more medigel. It didn’t have the usual red tinge however, nor was it the milky white of omnigel, being a pale blue instead. She tucked it away with the other odd package she’d found and continued on.  
  
She peered cautiously around the arch to the arena floor. Taking in the piles of block and debris, she glanced at the partially-caved roof and decided to move the firewood to a more defensible location. Stalking as silently as possible, she scoured the room before cautiously opening a set of double doors near the stairs she’d descended. The vestibule would have been perfect to hole up in except for the steady stream of water falling from the ceiling, covering the floor with several inches of the ice-cold liquid. Still, the drawer of a water-logged desk yielded flint and she returned to the central room to begin her preparations.  
  
She gathered the surprisingly dry logs and shifted them into one of the smaller niches delineated by fallen block. Taking another look around, she decided to risk the noise and fortified her position with some of the more manageable pieces of stone. That complete, she piled the logs according to regulation Alliance survival training, and tucked the dried flowers in and around as tinder. She fished out the metal chip she’d picked up outside, hoping it was enough like steel to spark on the flint.  
  
The fire crackling, slowly warming her small corner of the colosseum, she rummaged in her ammo packs for the nutrient bars she kept stashed there. Finding one, she ate half and tucked the rest away. No telling when she’d be able to find fresh food. Somewhat filled, she found the warmth of the fire beginning to lull her to sleep. She tried to fight it but, exhausted, she fell asleep propped up against a rough-hewn block of stone. In a life of strange happenings and a place of stranger ones, she didn’t suppose she should have been surprised that she couldn’t even sleep without dreaming something ridiculously weird.  
  
 _Shepard found herself in her apartment on the Citadel, staring out over the Wards and the cloudy nebula beyond. Behind her, the hiss of her door signaled an intrusion into her quiet sanctuary. The reflection in the glass showed the impossible, so she turned, hands still clasped at parade rest as she took in the man standing there. A man she hadn’t seen in over a decade. A man she’d been told was dead._  
  
 _“You failed,” he spoke dispassionately._  
  
 _“What?” Shepard heard herself ask._  
  
 _“On Virmire. You failed. You could have saved them both, but you didn’t.” There was a pause as the man stepped closer, eying the stiff Commander critically. “I’m not surprised.”_  
  
 _She felt her face twist into a snarl but just as she launched herself at him, intent on taking her guilt out on his smugly arrogant face, everything went black._  
  
Startled awake, it was only due to her experience sleeping in active war zones that she didn’t jerk and kick the glowing embers of her fire. She was about to tease it back to flames when she heard the slithering. Scales on stone, it sounded like, and she was acutely aware that she was without her weapons. She edged away from the remains of her fire as silently as she could manage.  
  
Just in time, it seemed, because right as she slipped around the corner of her cozy niche a heavy weight crashed into the wall above her hideout. Shepard bolted, ducking between outcroppings and debris piles until she could get a better look at the... what the hell was that, even?  
  
The creature was some sort of quadruped, lunging forward with a reptilian hiss and slashing with vicious-looking claws. She rolled under its attack, lashing out with both feet at the less-protected underbelly. The move shoved it away somewhat, but she hadn’t compensated for its whip-like tail. The end of which suddenly wrapped around one of her ankles and tossed her into the opposite wall. Kinetic barrier crackling, she barely managed to dodge the follow-up strike. Struggling to pull air into her lungs, Shepard twisted to keep the creature in sight.  
  
She began lobbing any rock small enough for her to lift at the thing, rolling away to both avoid its tail and claws and acquire new ammunition. She occasionally got a punch or kick in when it strayed close enough, but distance was as much of a weapon as she had right now. She was bracing for a strike she couldn’t avoid, setting her body for a vicious counter, when the double doors she’d thought led only to a water-filled antechamber were blasted inward.  
  
Using the newcomers’ entrance as distraction, Shepard flipped over the block at her back and darted out of range of the creature. Peering around her cover, she was glad she had gotten out of the open when four of the five oddly-dressed humans now filling the doorway opened fire with what looked to her like old-model guns.  
  
She watched with raised eyebrows as the creature dissolved into gauzy fireflies that spiraled towards the crumbling roof before disappearing themselves. Turning back to her rescuers, she saw them peering back at her. The only one without a gun stepped forward and Shepard realised that it was also the only female. The strange girl pulled off her goggles, calling something out in a language the Commander’s omnitool struggled to translate.  
  
Moving cautiously, Shepard emerged from cover, hoping that if they decided to open fire that her kinetic barrier would hold long enough for her to get back into cover. They didn’t, and she approached the group slowly. The girl said something again, prompting a quiet beeping from the omnitool, and Shepard understood it was the same language as the graffiti she’d seen outside in the ruins.  
  
When the Commander was just outside of arm’s reach, the strange girl motioned for her to stop. Her tone turned demanding and, still not fully understanding, Shepard could only shrug in response. The girl sighed in exasperation and mimed removing an invisible helmet. With almost exaggerated slowness, Shepard reached for the latches on her hardsuit and tugged the offending piece of armour off.  
  
When her face came into view, the four men with guns muttered between themselves. One darted forwards and raised his weapon. The girl shouted something the omnitool translated as a definite “No!” and reached out her hand.  
  
Though a part of her acknowledged this, Shepard’s combat training also kicked in and before she could stop the impulse she was leaning back, twisting her hips and dropping her helmet to grasp the barrel of the strange-looking rifle with both hands. Two quick jerks, one up and the other towards her assailant, and his grip slackened. She flipped the weapon around, pulling back just before she chinned the guy with his own gun.  
  
Immediately there were three more guns pointed at her and she sighed, presenting the gun to the girl with her fingers well away from the trigger, muttering, “Sorry, reflex.”  
  
The Commander’s omnitool beeped softly, before a close approximation of her voice repeated, “Cunno, navmaq.”  
  
A look of surprise came over the girl’s face, accompanied by four gasps from her companions, their weapons lowering in shock. Shepard shrugged again and set the gun she’d taken on the ground since no one seemed to want to relieve her of it. Retrieving her helmet, she tugged it back on and latched it. When the girl started to object, Shepard held up a hand and spoke clearly. “Wait. It’ll auto-translate this way.”  
  
“Oh,” came the faintly mechanised voice, “Well who are you, then? And what are you doing here?”  
  
Before she could answer, the man she’d disarmed pulled out a wicked-looking knife and pointed at her, shouting “Fiend!”  
  
Rather than grapple with him again, Shepard danced backwards, hands upraised to show she was unarmed. Avoiding the one with the knife, she called out answers to the questions the girl had asked. “I’m Commander Shepard of the Alliance navy. I’m sorry I can’t tell you what I’m doing here, because I don’t even know where here is.”  
  
Visibly irritated, one of the older men stepped forward and cuffed the knife-wielder across the back of his head. “Stop being an idiot. It’s obvious she’s no fiend.”  
  
While the two men argued and eventually started to wrestle on the cold stone floor, the two women met again near the door the strangers had arrived through. The short blonde girl frowned up at the black and grey faceplate she was presented with. “It’s too bad you can’t understand us without that on.”  
  
Shepard shrugged and the girl continued, brightening visibly. “Oh well! I’m Rikku. We’re here looking for salvage to bring back Home.”  
  
Both ‘Rikku’ and ‘home’ came through her speakers untranslated, and Shepard understood they denoted proper nouns. Rikku cocked her head to the side as she thought of something. “Say... where are you from, anyway?”  
  
Shepard eyed her warily, though there was no change in her posture to show as such to the girl. After a moment, she shrugged and tilted her head back, staring up at the cloudy sky through the holes in the ceiling. “Space, I guess. The stars,” she elaborated as Rikku’s eyes went wide. Shrugging again, she looked back down and sighed. “I have a place in Zakera on the Citadel though.”  
  
“Za...ker...and?” The word came back confused, almost mangled as Rikku’s brow furrowed.  
  
She was silent, looking over at her companions for a moment before grinning and slapping the Commander on the shoulder. “Well, it’s okay! You can come with us for now!”  
  
The girl skipped off, rounding up the men she’d come with and scolding them for fighting. Returning to Shepard, Rikku looped an arm through one armoured elbow and began to drag the Commander down the hallway. Since her options were to either stay and freeze waiting for a more familiar rescue or to follow and hope there was a spaceport somewhere on the planet, Shepard didn’t object to the treatment except to extract her arm from Rikku’s grip when they emerged from the ruins.  
  
Once on board the strange ship waiting there - Rikku informed her matter-of-factly that it was named the _Remora_ \- she settled on the deck and removed her helmet once more. Tipping her head back to rest on the crates behind her, she savoured the winds on her face as they moved further out to sea. After some time, Rikku appeared at her side, squatting to even her height with the resting Commander.  
  
One eye cracked open and the eyebrow above it, bisected by a faint scar, raised in silent question. The blonde girl giggled and held out what looked like a plastic filter. “We’re above the treasure we came for. Will you help me get it?”  
  
It took Shepard a moment to realise her omnitool wasn’t needed to translate the speech and she turned to face her rescuer fully, both brows raised now. “You can speak Common? Why didn’t you do so earlier?”  
  
“Ah...” Rikku rubbed the back of her neck, eyes closed in embarrassment. “Dad doesn’t like it as much, and Aniki - that’s my brother, with the knife? - doesn’t understand it that well. It was easier to speak Al Bhed at the time.”  
  
Before she could respond, Rikku jumped up and back. “You... you’re not an al bhed-hater, are you?”  
  
Shepard stood as well, shaking her head. “No, I don’t even know what an al bhed is. You look human to me.”  
  
“Oh, good.”  
  
Shepard donned her helmet, walking to the railing to peer over the side into the black sea. Rikku joined her after a moment. “We’re going down there?” the Commander questioned. Gaining affirmation, she sighed. “Do you have a weapon I could borrow? I don’t think my fists will be that effective against anything trying to eat us.”  
  
Laughing, Rikku nodded and skipped off. When she returned, she was juggling what looked like a pistol and two blades, and being followed by the man she’d identified earlier as being her brother. He was ranting quietly about arming enemies, but both women ignored him in favour of the weaponry.  
  
Taking the pistol, Shepard checked its sight out over the bow before reflexively attaching it to her hip. Thankfully, though it didn’t collapse the way she was used to, the magnetic clips on her armour held the gun in place.  
  
The blades, each the size of her forearm, were painted red. Each had a half-circle guard and Rikku demonstrated how they could be clipped together to form either one double-wide or two devastating parallel blades. After a moment’s thought, Shepard clipped them to her armour at the base of her spine where she normally kept her shotgun. Testing the draw a few times, she nodded to herself before gesturing to Rikku to proceed her into the water. Giving a scowling Aniki a mocking wave, she dove after the young al bhed.  
  
The water was cold and dark, as expected, and Shepard was grateful that her suit’s night vision was still functional. Following the _Remora_ ’s anchor chain, they found themselves fighting off aggressive objectors to their presence until they reached an open hatch in the side of the sunken hulk they’d come for. The Commander was surprised to find some electronics still working inside and, after a gestured conversation, managed to use her omnitool to hack open the next doorway.  
  
Rikku took the lead again, pushing further into the bowels of the sunken ship. After dispatching a few more examples of overly vicious marine life, the blonde began repairing what Shepard soon realised was a power core. The lack of visible eezo use worried her, but she was soon distracted by the appearance of a much larger problem.  
  
Swimming was not quite like space walking, but there were similarities. Drawing her borrowed daggers, Shepard dove and made to get beneath the half-squid, half-snail monstrosity they found themselves facing. Rikku made a familiar gesture and Shepard braced for the explosion. Pushing off the floor in the aftermath, she buried one blade in the soft underbelly before being tossed away by a tentacle.  
  
The al bhed threw another grenade, dodging the fiend’s reaching limbs. Before the fire had cleared, the Commander had used the wall to thrust herself back into melee range and sheathed her second blade deep in the creature’s eye. Screaming and flailing, it dissolved into the same ethereal wisps as everything else they’d killed, and Shepard made a note to ask what they were when they’d surfaced.  
  
After checking a few more rooms to make sure the newly-restored power was routing properly, Rikku gave a grinning thumbs up and led the way back out of the maze of corridors and up out of a sea now lit by the searchlights dotting the hull of the wreck.  
  
Back aboard the _Remora_ , Shepard once more settled against the crates she’d commandeered previously. She removed her helmet to enjoy the salt breeze and thumbed off her omnitool’s translation of Aniki demanding the return of their weapons. He could come get them himself if he was so eager.  
  
She watched from the corner of her eye as Rikku dragged her disgruntled brother off into the bowels of the ship. Sighing heavily as they disappeared from sight, Shepard tried not to think about her own crew or the fact that her last memory was of the Normandy in pieces as she was ejected from its burning shell.  
  
Her painful reminiscence was interrupted by a tray of food appearing nearly in her lap. Glancing up at the blonde girl grinning back, she nodded her thanks and began to eat slowly, savoring the foreign foods. Rikku watched her for a short time before wandering over to the closest railing. Tracking her progress with her eyes, Shepard waited patiently for the girl to say what was on her mind.  
  
When she did, the words came out rushed and jumbled. “You say... you lived in Zanarkand?”  
  
The Commander wasn’t sure she’d heard right, but she nodded slowly, setting the remains of the dinner aside to give the conversation her full attention. Rikku’s brow furrowed and she whirled about to face the water. After a moment, Shepard joined her at the railing. “Something the matter?”  
  
The blonde bit her lip, glancing up with blazing green eyes. “It’s just... that place... it was destroyed over a thousand years ago by Sin’s attack.”  
  
Shepard nearly choked on air. “A thousand years?”  
  
“Yeah,” Rikku nodded, mouth twisted into a frown.  
  
They were quiet for some time, each lost in their own worlds. Perhaps the Reapers had prevailed and the survivors had named them Sin in the manner of primitive cultures giving name to what they felt was justified punishment from the gods? Shepard shook her head, returning to her half-finished meal. Rikku watched her from the rail.  
  
“Look,” the al bhed began quietly. “Um, it’s not that I don’t believe you, but I think you had some contact with Sin-”  
  
Shepard snorted inelegantly. If Sin was a Reaper, she’d had more than _some_ contact with the bastards before.  
  
Rikku looked startled at the interruption, but continued. “They say your head goes funny when Sin is near.”  
  
Shepard managed to contain her morbid amusement this time, but it was a close thing. The girl looked thoughtful as she completed her idea, “Maybe you just had some sort of dream? About... that place?”  
  
“It’s possible,” she shrugged one armoured shoulder, revealing her doubt.  
  
Rikku pouted and nearly stomped back over to the crates, squatting down to poke that same shoulder. “Look, you said you were a soldier, right? In the navy? Well you should go to Bevelle. Maybe one of the Crusaders would know who you are, or you might might find someone you recognise.”  
  
The Commander watched her solemnly for a moment, before quirking her brow. “And where, exactly, is Bevelle?”  
  
Rikku’s face fell and she groaned in frustration, standing and pacing in agitation. She brightened after a moment, pointing a dramatic finger at the still seated woman. “I know! I’ll get you to Bevelle, I promise.”  
  
Receiving only that same raised brow in response, she huffed. “You’d rather stay here?”  
  
Shepard looked out over the sea before sighing and giving a minute shake of her head. Rikku nodded and turned back towards the ship’s interior. “Okay, wait right here. I’ll go tell the others.”  
  
Halfway there she spun again, twisting her fingers nervously. “Oh... you shouldn’t tell people where you’re from. Yevon says that’s a holy place.”  
  
She bit her lip before forcing out the rest of her warning. “Don’t... don’t tell anyone you can understand Al Bhed, either, okay? Not everyone likes us, and I don’t want you to get in trouble over something like that, alright?”  
  
At Shepard’s nod, she whirled again and the door hissed shut behind her. Chaos erupted almost immediately.  
  
The _Remora_ rocked violently with the waves as something surged in the deep. Shepard snatched up her helmet and pulled it on before drawing the pistol she’d borrowed. Warily aiming it at the water, she struggled to keep her footing as she heard Rikku burst back out on deck followed closely by the others.  
  
Shepard twisted, one hand waving for them to get back, and in that moment the beast struck. It slammed hard into the port side of the ship, tossing everyone hard into the starboard rail. The last thing the Commander saw as she was thrown overboard was Rikku reaching for her, horror on her face and her brother holding her back. Shutting her eyes against the painful memory the vision dragged forth, Shepard disappeared beneath the waves.


	2. Paradise

When Shepard regained consciousness, she found herself bobbing in the warm, shallow waters of a tropical atoll. She lay in her dead man’s float for a while, gathering her wits and trusting her rebreather to continue supplying air. The splash of something hitting the water hard beside her, however, had her twisting in surprised panic. Intentionally sinking beneath the waves, she drew her borrowed knives and brandished them at... a beach ball?  
  
Huffing to herself, she stowed her blades and was about to surface again when powerful legs pushed a body through the surf before her. When all the redheaded stranger did was grasp the ball and throw it back towards land, she stood, surging from the water like the fiend Aniki had accused her of being. Given her sudden and unusual appearance, she forgave the man one hit, his fist glancing off her kinetic barrier with no more than a crackle.  
  
When he reared back for another though, she twisted, catching his arm as it passed and forcing him into an awkward hold. She saw others move over his shoulder, pushing towards them through the surf, and she leaned into her opponent. “Call them off. I am not here to fight.”  
  
He reared back in shock at her voice, wincing as the move wrenched an already sore shoulder, and she let him go. Keeping a wary eye on her armoured form, the man turned and waved the calvary away. “Nothin’ to worry ‘bout, ya? Get back to practice. I got dis.”  
  
When he turned back, he folded confident arms across his chest and pinned her with eyes narrowed in suspicion. Before he could grill her, however, she tugged off her helmet. His mouth dropped faintly and, brow furrowed, he asked, “Who are ya? And what ya think ya doin’ bringin’ machina here?”  
  
“Do you mind if we move to land first? I’m a bit tired of being wet.”  
  
He looked as if he wanted to refuse but he gestured her forward and she waded onto the beach. Glancing at his companions, the stranger motioned off to the left where a ramshackle boathouse stood watch over a wooden quay. When they reached the end, out of sight of anyone else, he set his stance and repeated his first question.  
  
She sighed, unlatching a gauntlet to wearily rub the scar across her brow. Opting to give as little information away as she could, she only replied, “Shepard.”  
  
Choosing to answer his second question as well, she muttered a faintly sarcastic rejoinder. “Would you believe me if I told you I don’t know what machina is?”  
  
The man gave her a weird look, leaning forward to peer at her. “You, ah... hit your head or somethin’? You wearin’ it!”  
  
“Or something,” she grunted. Poking her still-bare finger into the odd shoulder guard he wore, she turned his accusation around with faux innocence. “Is this machina too, then?”  
  
He jumped back, surprised. “You tellin’ me all that is jus’ fancy armour? What ya need so much for, eh?”  
  
She barely refrained from sneering at him. “I find that I stay alive longer if I don’t have holes in my defenses.”  
  
He scoffed, regaining his bluster. “What ‘bout that blue thing, then? Ain’t no armour like that in alla Spira!”  
  
Shepard watched him coolly, staring him down as her mind raced furiously. A world that mistrusted all machines? But Rikku had handled them easily. Was that why outsiders didn’t like the al bhed? The Commander decided not to draw attention to the pistol on her hip. Finally, she offered the only explanation she was willing to give. “It’s magic.”  
  
Though she’d meant it sarcastically, the man’s face cleared. He grinned and opened his mouth, likely for more questions. Before he could say anything though, she cut across him. “You still haven’t introduced yourself, you know. Who are you?”  
  
“Oh! Ah,” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Name’s Wakka. Coach an’ captain of da Besaid Aurochs.”  
  
At her noncommittal hum, he sighed. “Look, sorry, ya? It’s jus’... even so long afta the war...”  
  
Shepard still said nothing, shuttered gaze looking past him and seeing the lush island beyond for what seemed like the first time. She fought back the memories of another garden world with white sand beaches and sparkling blue waters. Refocusing on the rambling redhead, she realised she hadn’t heard hardly anything he’d said.  
  
“--you know?” He paused, taking in her pale face. “You alright, there? You jus’ kinda spaced out...”  
  
Wakka’s eyes widened as the armoured woman flinched almost imperceptibly. He’d have missed it if he hadn’t been watching so closely. He reached for her, stopping his advance just over halfway between them. “We should get goin’, ya? Get you to the village an’ present you to the summoner.”  
  
Suddenly too tired to do anything other than nod in agreement, a weary Shepard followed him back down the quay. Before stepping onto the white sands, she relatched her gauntlet and tucked her helmet beneath her arm, propping it on her hip so as to conceal the weapon there. Schooling her expression into one of vague neutrality, she trailed Wakka across the beach his team still practiced along and up onto a path leading further into the island.  
  
Winding through the dense jungle, she quietly made a game of guessing the native fauna by the calls she could hear echo through the undergrowth, all of which were backed by a dull rumble. After what couldn’t have been more than a quarter mile of steady upwards climb in which the noise gradually became louder, the trees suddenly parted to reveal the source of the thunder.  
  
The magnificent waterfall captivated her, tumbling over the cliff face above them to crash against rocks far below. Wakka halted on the far side of the split bridge, turning back to Shepard where she stood in the middle, basking in the sight and sound of the falls around her. Grinning, he called out, “‘Ey! You gon’ stand aroun’ all day? Thought you was tired a’ bein’ wet?”  
  
The Commander shook herself and silently followed when her redheaded guide continued down a path noticeably less overgrown. Catching up, she matched his pace easily and resumed her earlier diversion. After only a minute or two more however, Wakka folded his hands behind his head, elbows out in a practiced study of nonchalance. Shepard braced herself for the question she had expected since they first stepped away from the beach.  
  
“Where you from, anyway?”  
  
She shrugged, keeping her gaze on the road ahead. “I don’t remember.”  
  
The frank admission caught him unawares and he stopped short, arms falling to his sides as he gaped comically. She continued for another few feet before turning back and raising her single unmarred brow. Wakka snapped his jaw shut and drew even with her in two long strides. “Ya kiddin’, right?”  
  
She shook her head as they resumed walking. Smoothly, she built her story on half-truths and omissions. “I have no memory of how I came to this island.  My life before that...” she trailed off, letting the redhead come to his own conclusions.  
  
“What _do_ ya remember?” Wakka pressed, curiosity colouring his voice.  
  
Shepard picked her words with care. “A ship. The stars. The cold,” she grimaced.  
  
“Cold, hmm? Macalania, maybe?” he guessed.  
  
She didn’t reply, and they fell into a comfortable silence until they reached the outskirts of the small village. Stopping just before they crossed the treeline, Wakka considered her for a moment before sighing. “Let’s head to my place, ya? Not good to walk around in all dat armour, an’ nobody bother it if you leave it there.”  
  
He seemed to think of something, and she was surprised to see a faint blush on his tanned cheeks. “You got clothes under there, ya? I c’n get Lulu or one of the odda girls to find ya somethin’ oddawise.”  
  
She smirked, but indicated she indeed had clothing and he didn’t need to bother anyone on her behalf. Nodding in relief, he led them along what looked to be the main road before turning onto a side street. While most of the structures were constructed of fabric and hide on wooden frames, they appeared to be sturdy and were generally larger than Shepard had expected.  
  
The tent-house they stopped at was smaller than most, though she noted once they ducked inside that the main area could still seat four or five comfortably around a central brazier. Pulling aside one of the interior walls, Wakka indicated that she could change in what appeared to be his sleeping quarters.  
  
When she emerged, she found him arranging a plate of what looked to be cut fruit and skewers of some type of roasted game. Noticing her, he smiled and gestured for her to sit. When she’d made herself comfortable, he passed her the food and a waterskin.  
  
“Still wearin’ ya boots, huh?” he noted, sitting back to tend the fire. Neither mentioned that she’d also refused to leave the daggers behind.  
  
Shepard savoured the sweet flavour of something vaguely mango-ish and shrugged. “It was that or barefoot, and I’m not too keen on that option.”  
  
“We find you some sandals or somethin’ at Ikko’s, or maybe they got a spare pair o’ boots at da Crusader’s Lodge.”  
  
Recalling Rikku’s passing mention of them, she swallowed the last of her fruit before asking, “Crusaders?”  
  
“Ah, man,” Wakka groaned theatrically. “You really don’t remember much, huh? I woulda bet you were a Crusader yourself, you know.”  
  
Sighing at her blank expression, he waved his hand between them. “Don’ worry about it. Best you ask them about themselves though, ya? I’ll introduce you to Luzzu when ya done eating.”  
  
She nodded her agreement and, when she had finished the last of the game and thanked him for the meal, they stepped out into the late afternoon sun. Wakka led them back out to the main road, turning towards the large stone building that dominated one side of the central square. Angling to the left of it, he led her towards the largest tent structure in the village. It was richly decorated in ivory and pale blues and its supports were carved with rough, stylised figures battling along their lengths. Before she could get a good look at them, however, Wakka had ushered her through the entrance.  
  
Two men sat at the rough-hewn table that dominated the front half of the Crusader’s Lodge. They looked up and the elder - also a redhead, she noted - smiled, waving them forward and greeting her guide as a friend. The younger one, barely more than a boy with a small black topknot, stared at her with wide eyes. Shepard supposed that, beyond her being a stranger, against the bright clothing of the islanders her blue and black fatigues were even more of an oddity. On edge, she fell back on old habits and dropped into parade rest, clutching Rikku’s daggers behind her.  
  
Hiding a small smile, she raised her scarred eyebrow in silent inquiry. Their staring contest was interrupted by the older man clapping a hand on the younger’s shoulder. He thrust a hand between them and, with a quick glance at Wakka, she grasped it and shook it solidly.  
  
He introduced himself as Luzzu, and the boy as Gatta. She nodded, murmuring her name as she returned her hand to the small of her back. Wakka took over the conversation, briefly detailing how she’d just appeared on the beach with no memory of where she was from or how she’d gotten here. He didn’t mention her strange armour and she felt no need to enlighten them.  
  
“Must’ve gotten too close to Sin, hm?” Luzzu was contemplative as he swept his eyes over her again.  
  
She only shrugged, meeting his gaze and daring him to challenge her. Before the Crusader could ask anything else, Wakka broached the subject of footwear and their attention shifted. When they produced sandals similar to those her companion wore, she thanked them anyway. “They’ll certainly be more comfortable than bare feet,” she began.  
  
Luzzu caught her hesitation. “But?”  
  
Feigning embarrassment, she looked away, watching the people outside prepare for the coming night. “I am used to... sturdier boots.”  
  
Wakka’s confused expression cleared and he smacked the heel of his hand to his forehead. “The cold! I can’t believe I forgot, ya?”  
  
She nodded, allowing them to believe what they would and, after a bit of scrounging, Gatta produced a pair of soft black leather boots with hard soles. Shepard accepted them gratefully, sparing a brief smile for the silent boy. “Is there something I might be able to do in exchange? I don’t have any money with which to pay you.”  
  
The older Crusader hummed for a moment, then nodded to himself. “How good are you at hunting?”  
  
“Hunting?” She glanced at Wakka from the corner of her eye.  
  
He shrugged, “The village always needs food, ya? Not much farmland ‘round here an’ eatin’ only fish gets old after awhile.” Looking to Luzzu, he continued. “I’ll take ‘er out tomorrow. We gotta stop by the temple before it gets too late.”  
  
The Crusaders nodded and bid them farewell as Wakka led Shepard out of the lodge and into the evening air. Ignoring the questioning gazes of curious villagers, the redhead began to climb the small flight of stairs before the stone building. She adopted what she hoped was an appropriately reverent air as they entered the dimly lit central chamber. Stepping closer to her guide, she murmured, “Should I be bringing weapons in here?”  
  
“You wouldn’t be the first, you know?” He laughed softly and clapped her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. We’re only here to see the summoner right now.”  
  
“I’m still only an apprentice, Wakka,” a gentle, feminine voice put in from behind them.  
  
He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment as they both turned and Shepard caught sight of who had snuck up on them. A girl wearing a white wrap top and purple pleated skirt was flanked by an older woman in a low-cut black dress and what appeared to be a large, blue, bipedal lion with a broken horn coming from his forehead. The lion-man snarled silently at her but she only gazed passively back. She had seen far more frightening sights than a few sharp teeth.  
  
The girl recalled her attention and Shepard smiled inwardly to note that her dismissal had irritated the beastman more than her defiance. “Hi, I’m Yuna!” The apprentice summoner smiled up at the Commander, gesturing to the dark-haired woman and the blue man, “This is Lulu and Kimahri, they’ll be my guardians when I become a full summoner.”  
  
“Shepard,” she murmured, letting Wakka handle the rest of the explanations while she observed the dynamic between the four islanders.  
  
She had moved on to idly inspecting some of the impressive statuary, her energy from the meal earlier wearing off, when Yuna reached out to touch her arm. Twisting away subconsciously, Shepard dropped her new boots and brought the hand up to guard. Taking in the stunned expressions before her, she fought down a blush and straightened. Ducking to retrieve her footwear, she edged out of reach and explained. “I'm sorry. I’m not used to being touched unexpectedly and I’m really rather tired.”  
  
“Still think you some kinda Crusader,” Wakka half-joked, brushing off her apology.  
  
Yuna turned to Lulu with a concerned look on her face. “Are any of the vacation homes open? She’d be able to sleep there and no one would disturb her.”  
  
The older woman tipped her head, long black braids slipping over her shoulder as she considered the Commander carefully. Finally she nodded. “There is one not far from the village center. Come.”  
  
Gesturing with one hand, Lulu turned and left the temple. It was a relief to know she wouldn’t be commandeering anyone else’s bed but, turning to Wakka, Shepard murmured, “My effects..?”  
  
“I got it,” he assured, waving her on. “I know where she’s takin’ ya.”  
  
Hesitating a moment longer, she nodded and followed Lulu. Hopefully Wakka would overlook the pistol laid out neatly beside her armour, but she doubted it. Whatever the fallout, she prayed she’d be able to put it off until morning.  
  
The house she was led to was roughly the same size as Wakka’s, though the front area could only accommodate three without issue. As she looked around inside, Lulu gave her curt directions to the village’s communal baths before leaving her to wait for the young man. Silently, she consolidated the trinkets no doubt left out to give the place a more homey feel to visitors. She’d just slipped the last of them into the drawer of a side table when the redhead finally stumbled in under the weight of her hardsuit.  
  
Shepard stifled a chuckle and went to relieve him of the burden, laying the pieces out neatly across dressers meant to hold vacationers’ clothing. She’d have to clean it thoroughly before she even thought of wearing it again. It had been a long time, but the Alliance gave all new recruits a class in basic care and field maintenance.  
  
“Shepard,” he muttered as she finished straightening the last of it.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“I found this too. It’s yours, ya?”  
  
She turned to see him holding her borrowed gun awkwardly, as if touching it was physically uncomfortable. Sighing internally, she met his eyes and gave a short nod. “In a way, yes.”  
  
“‘In a way!’” He sounded incredulous, though thankfully he tried to keep his voice down. “You said you didn’t have any machina, but you got some right here!”  
  
Suddenly angry, she stepped close, tugging the weapon from his inexpert grasp with one hand and poking the forefinger of her other into his sternum. “I said I didn’t know what machina was,” she hissed back. “This is mine until I can return it to its rightful owners.”  
  
He opened his mouth to retort but her hand came up, silencing him. “Don’t even _begin_ to speak against someone who saved my life, Wakka. I am grateful for the hospitality you’ve shown me, but this,” she lifted the pistol into view, “is a matter of honour.”  
  
She was exaggerating somewhat, but racism - the subject she was sure he was about to bring up against the al bhed who’d lent her the weapon - was something she couldn’t handle right now without a good night's sleep. For now she just needed him to retreat.  
  
Sighing, out loud this time, she backed away. Absently, she unchambered the current round and pulled the clip. Looking back up, she took in his stubborn expression and showed him the separate pieces.  
  
“Will it make you feel better if I don’t use it?”  
  
“I..” Wakka looked stunned at her concession.  
  
“Sleep on it.” Her tone was final.  
  
Shepard didn’t wait for him to leave before ducking back into the sleeping area. Carefully, she packed the pistol and bullets away in the locking chest the village provided for valuables. Slumping onto the bed, she allowed herself only a moment to think of her crew while she tinkered with her omnitool. It refused to even pretend there might be an extranet, set a proximity alarm, or tell her anything close to Zulu time. However, she did manage to get it to reveal local time and set an alarm for just before sunrise. Rerouting the notification sounds to her comlink receiver, she finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep.  
  
 _This time, she found herself standing on a beach. Whether it was Virmire or Besaid or even Earth, she couldn’t be sure. She turned away from the bright sunset glinting off the waters, eyes tracking the dark undergrowth for the path she knew should be there._  
  
 _“How could you let me die?”_  
  
 _She froze, shoulders hunching slightly at the accusing tone in that painfully familiar voice. There was no way she could see that face now without breaking down._  
  
 _“Why do you get to survive?”_  
  
 _She sucked in a startled, horrified gasp as that one voice was suddenly backed by a chorus she knew all too well. Every squadmate she’d ever lost, every civilian she couldn’t save; their voices rose up behind her, demanding answers she didn’t have. Whirling, their faces blurred as she backed away, retreating to the treeline as the dead surged forth on the tide. Behind them, standing waist-deep in the serene blue water with that damn smirk on his face, was a man she’d tried so hard to forget._  
  
 _As icy fingers grasped her clothes and dug into her flesh, she focussed on him, letting her rage overpower the grief threatening to drown her. “You bastard!” she screamed. “Why can’t you just stay dead!”_  
  
 _And then her ghosts were gone and she staggered with their sudden absence, leaving her alone on the sand. He watched her blankly from the surf, his quiet voice only barely crossing the distance. “What did you say?”_  
  
 _Shepard straightened, chin rising as she refused to back down from him. “You heard me.”_  
  
 _For a moment neither moved. Then, between one moment and the next, he broke. The setting sun poured light through cracks that opened in him as though her defiance had shattered his very being. She had to shield her eyes as his form dissolved into nothing. The wind swept over her, bringing words so faint that when she woke, she wasn’t sure she’d heard them at all._  
  
 _“I wish I could...”_


	3. Hunting

When Wakka arrived the next morning with a change of clothes, a plate of fruit, and a small bowl of soup, he found Shepard meticulously repairing a small tear in the fabric of her under-armour. She had been awake for hours, well before even the chirrup of her alarm. That her latest dream haunted her was only visible in the slight darkening of the smudges beneath her eyes.  
  
She’d cleaned the pistol with gun oil she’d found stashed in one of her ammo packs before locking it away again and starting on her armour. When she noticed him standing awkwardly in the doorway, she gestured impatiently to one of the few cushions not covered in her things. He sat and watched her silently, clearing a space on the low table for the food he’d brought once he’d set the bright outfit down nearby.  
  
“Have you decided?” she asked, returning to her task.  
  
“I don’ know,” he grumbled. “You gon’ tell me where you got dat thing?”  
  
He sounded petulant, but at least he was willing to talk and had brought her breakfast. Finishing with the patch, she set aside her work and rubbed her brow wearily. Coming to a conclusion, she stood and tugged a heavy curtain across the entrance. At least they could have the illusion of privacy. Reseating herself somewhat closer, she gestured to the food, pulling it to her at his mute nod of assent. Taking an appreciative sip of the mildly fishy broth, she sighed heavily and began.  
  
“Please remember that I haven’t lied.”  
  
He snorted in disbelief and she twitched an eyebrow up in response. “I have omitted some things out of a desire for smooth relations, but I haven’t told you a lie.” Yet.  
  
When he made no further interruptions, she continued. “I really don’t remember how I came to this island, but it’s not where I first woke up.”  
  
She took another mouthful of soup as she gathered her thoughts. “I came to in a pile of ruins, alone. I had no way of making contact with anyone; I couldn’t think of anyone to even try. I was cold, hungry, and, when they found me, being attacked by a large fiend I had nearly no defenses against.”  
  
“What ‘bout ya barrier?” Wakka questioned as she paused to sample this morning’s fruit.  
  
“It’s not perfect and it doesn’t last forever.” She shook her head. “I had no weapons to fight back with, I was throwing rocks at it until they came. They shot it.”  
  
“Al bhed,” he hissed, eyes narrowing.  
  
Shifting the half-empty bowl to one hand, she leaned forward and pointed a stern finger at him, expression fierce. “What did I say about talking bad of people who saved my life?” Her voice was low with warning, “They took me on their ship, fed me, gave me weapons to defend myself. They gave me a purpose, and had agreed to take me to Bevelle before we were attacked.”  
  
Wakka huffed, his expression mulish. “They take advantage of ya! Give ya machina and set ya against da teachings of Yevon when ya don’t know any bedda! How dat savin’ ya life when they bring Sin down on ya head like dat?”  
  
Shepard sat back and eyed him carefully. Time to get to the heart of this. “Is this about the war you mentioned yesterday? Sin’s rampage a thousand years ago?”  
  
“Ya!”  
  
Smoothing her features, she spoke calmly. “Explain it to me. All of it,” she clarified when he looked confused. “As if I were a small child and knew nothing.”  
  
With an incredulous look and a stuttering start, Wakka detailed the war of nations, the role of machina in the conflict and the emergence of Sin. He spoke reverently of Yevon, the summoners, and their pilgrimages, though he awkwardly skirted around the details of how one could even temporarily defeat the great evil. She listened intently, finishing the food he’d brought as he outlined the role of the Crusaders and their beginnings as the Crimson Blades. Her brow furrowed as his narrative became clipped and his voice betrayed a deep-seated hurt. She held up a hand when his voice cracked over Djose; she was no stranger to grief, after all.  
  
“What happened?”  
  
He was silent for a long time, looking at his hands curled in his lap. The story came out haltingly. “My liddle brudda Chappu. He joined da Crusaders. I gave him a sword to celebrate. I was proud of him, you know? But he didn’t wan’ to use it. Preferred to use machina,” he spat the word out like a curse, slamming white-knuckled fists on the ground before him. “Sin murdered him for it last year.”  
  
He started when Shepard’s hand settled over one of his, head jerking up to meet her sympathetic gaze with a look of wild-eyed surprise. She retreated again, speaking softly when she was sure she had his attention. “I understand.”  
  
It was the wrong thing to say. Wakka exploded upwards, towering over her as he began to pace  the small room. “How could you? There’s nothin’ left! Those al bhed an’ they machina took Chappu from me, took him from Lu! Our parents were killed by Sin when we wa’ jus’ liddle kids! Why we gotta pay for somethin’ that happen a thousand years ago? Maybe if we jus’ kill dem all--”  
  
She let him get no further. Surging to her feet as well, she snarled, eyes blazing. “Listen to yourself! Do you think you’re the only one to know pain? The only one to lose a loved one to something outside your control? To Sin?” Her arm swung wide, gesturing to the wider world outside the walls of the tent. “Look around you!”  
  
He opened his mouth to retort, but she didn’t give him the chance. “I’ve seen them, Wakka, and they look just like you and me. What makes them different? That they don’t blindly follow the teachings of your god? That they question the world around them? What?”  
  
She stepped closer, breath hissing between her teeth angrily. “You want a holy war, Wakka? I’ll tell you who will win. _No one._ ”  
  
He was reminded that she was a warrior, a soldier. Even if her mind didn’t remember, her body surely knew how to kill. Her chest heaved and she stepped back again, scorn in her gaze as she looked him up and down contemptuously. “You would kill the al bhed - not just their fighters but their elderly, their women and children, everyone - for the mere _possibility_ of redemption? _Disgusting._ ”  
  
Wakka tried to rally, drawing the teachings of the church around him like armour. “They brought Sin down on us all! Yevon shows us how to--”  
  
She cut him off again, hand slashing angrily through the air between them. Her voice was grave as she tried to calm them both, internally cursing her lack of control. “You asked why you should pay for something that happened a thousand years ago. What about them? Don’t you think they want Sin gone as well? That they’re just as tired of death as you? This works both ways: ‘Do not bear the sins of the father upon his children.’ That’s no kind of justice.”  
  
He closed his eyes tightly as if to shut out her words, slumping back down to the cushion and putting his face in his hands. She followed him down, determined to keep them on even footing at least physically, speaking softly as she tried to get him to understand.  
  
“Think about it, Wakka. If you take revenge on an al bhed for Chappu’s death, their brother is in the same place as you. So do you allow them to kill you for their vengeance? But then who avenges you? Lulu? And that al bhed’s friend kills her, and he is killed by someone else, who is killed by yet another.”  
  
Shepard sat back and watched him sadly. With a heavy sigh, she forged on. “I know how it feels to lose people. I know the rage and helplessness that comes with being unable to just _fix_ it.”  
  
He dropped his hands to look up at her, but she had picked up one of her gauntlets and was inspecting it closely. “You remember anything?”  
  
Hesitating a moment, she she shook her head. Better to continue the charade for now. “I feel their absence inside.”  
  
Twisting the polymer fingers in her own, she forced out the lie. “I may not remember their names or faces -” she remembered them all “- but I also know how that burning need for revenge can never fill that hole.”  
  
“But...” his protest trailed off, empty of substance.  
  
She met his eyes then. “Perhaps whoever killed them is already dead, I’ll never know, but war is a terrible cost on its own and they have started for far lesser reasons. I wouldn’t risk others - friends, civilians, other soldiers, anyone - for my peace of mind.”  
  
Another lie - she had risked countless others for personal revenge, even if she’d brought most of them safely out the other side - but one she knew rarely brought the closure she was speaking of. He was still looking a bit mulish, but hopefully she’d gotten through to him at least a little. Shepard sighed and rubbed her brow wearily. It wasn’t even midday and she wanted to go back to bed. Usually only dealing with Udina or Sparatus was this tiring.  
  
“Look. I didn’t intend to start an argument. Your beliefs are your own, and I can respect that, but as soon as you make a move against someone - al bhed or not - be prepared to have me stand in your way.”  
  
Time to use the tactic practiced in governments and militaries across the galaxy: if you haven’t secured agreement, keep going as if you had, ignore all protests, and deal with the fallout later. “Now, I’ll take this discussion as a ‘yes, the gun stays hidden and unused’ so that’s resolved. Were we going to actually do any hunting today?”  
  
Wakka struggled to gather his thoughts as Shepard stood and began picking up the scattered pieces of her hardsuit. He managed to appear mostly composed by the time she returned from the sleeping area, boots on and daggers in hand.  
  
“I’ll be outside, checking out the shops. Find me when you’re ready,” she instructed, eying him warily before turning towards the entrance and proceeding out into the late morning sun.   
  
Shepard had rediscovered the small credit chip in her ammo pack when she’d been inspecting her armour and, needing at least one item she doubted she could barter for, she wandered towards the central plaza and the shops she had seen there on her way in. Spotting a likely target for her request, the Commander ducked into one of the smaller hide tents just off the square.  
  
The old man seated behind a low table hardly glanced up at her entrance, so she took her time looking at the wares he had set out or hung from the supporting beams. When he finally set his work down, Shepard approached and greeted him. He eyed her odd dress with some suspicion, but his gaze narrowed on the blades she held in her hand. “Unusual design around here, ‘specially for someone who ain’t al bhed.”  
  
She was curious. “How do you know I’m not?”  
  
He looked up at her face again, probably to judge how serious a question it was, before gesturing faintly to his own. “Your eyes.”  
  
Shepard’s brows raised, then furrowed as she realised that only one of her al bhed rescuers had ever removed their goggles. “What’s different about them?”  
  
“They ain’t got swirls, girly,” the old man grunted, “Now what’d y’need?”  
  
She set the daggers down on the table gently. “Sheaths. Or _a_ sheath, at least.”  
  
He hummed thoughtfully, then eased himself up from the table. Hobbling into what she suspected was a back room, he returned shortly with an armload of leather.  
  
“Custom-made?” She questioned. “I don’t think I can afford that.”  
  
He shrugged, setting the leather down and pawing through it. “How much you got?”  
  
“This, I think.” She held out the chit.  
  
The man glanced up and froze, then looked up at her suspiciously. “What’d ya take me for, a cheat? Ain’t no way this work’d cost that much.”  
  
She frowned and inspected the small metal piece closely. “How much?”  
  
He froze again and she glanced up to see him staring at her intensely. “They said ya got too close to Sin, girly, but I ain’t never seen damage this bad.”  
  
Shepard shrugged awkwardly. The shopkeeper shook his head and returned to sorting through the leather on the table. “Two hundred gil. Won’t take more’n thirty for this work.”  
  
She nodded in acknowledgement but, when she moved to settle in and wait, the old man tsked and shooed her away. “G’on. I got the measure of ‘em now so take your fiendstickers out for some exercise instead of makin’ a lump on my floor. I’ll be done by t’night.”  
  
The Commander quirked her lips in a quick smile before ducking back out of the tent, daggers in hand. Wakka was standing near the center of the plaza, heading a familiar hide-wrapped ball for the amusement of some smaller children. She approached soundlessly and watched until the children noticed her and quieted. Wakka finished his set and caught the ball lightly. Grinning, though it appeared a little forced, he waved the children off and headed towards the forest at the edge of the village. She followed silently.  
  
When they’d gone quite a distance into the trees, changing direction every few minutes, she cleared her throat gently. “If you’re hoping to get me lost out here, Wakka, you’re unlikely to succeed.”  
  
The redhead stopped and turned, and she raised her scarred brow at his weary expression. “It”s not dat, ya? I’m jus’... tryin’ ta figure out what ya angle is. Why’d Yevon bring ya here if you just gonna speak out agains’ him?”  
  
Shepard eyed him for a moment before heaving a sigh. “I don’t know, Wakka. Maybe I’m dead and this is the afterlife. Maybe you’ve been eaten by Sin and this is all a freaky coma-dream. Why does it matter?”  
  
“Well--”  
  
He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence as Shepard dropped one of her daggers to grasp his forearm and yank him towards her. Twisting their bodies as she pulled him around, her right hand came up, blade flashing, to slash at the flank of a charging fiend as it passed through the space he’d just occupied. The large dog snarled as it spun, and Shepard didn’t have time to question why the large wound on its side wasn’t bleeding before it leapt at them again. Releasing her companion, the Commander rolled to the side in time to hear a heavy thud and a whimper of pain. Looking up, she saw the hulking creature staggering as Wakka caught his ball on the rebound. Darting closer again, she took advantage of the fiend’s disorientation to slam her dagger into the back of its neck, severing the spinal cord. The redhead spat to the side as Shepard stood over the dissolving form of their enemy.  
  
“What _are_ these things, by the way?” she questioned, twitching her wrist to shake a clinging rainbow light free of her blade.  
  
“What things?” Wakka asked, idly tossing his ball between his hands.  
  
“The wispy things fiends dissolve into when they die.”  
  
There was a moist thunk as the heavy leather ball hit the loam of the forest. She looked up from retrieving her other dagger to find the redhead staring at her incredulously. She shrugged and resumed checking her weapons for damage. “Better get used to it; I have a lot of questions and you’re the most likely person to answer at the moment.”  
  
“Pyreflies,” he muttered, retrieving the ball. “When a person dies, ya? Dey gotta be sent to the Farplane by a summoner or their spirit gets jealous a’ da living. Enough hate an’ time an’ dey kinda... merge. Inta fiends. Das why we gotta kill ‘em. Disperse da spirits so dey can have a chance a’ gettin’ sent or findin’ their way to da Farplane on dey own.”  
  
He looked over to see Shepard with her brows raised and a contemplative expression on her face. “Ya actually believe me this time?”  
  
Her sharp eyes pinned him down suddenly, brows snapping together as she frowned. “Were you lying?”  
  
“After ya rant on Yevon this mornin’... Ya didn’t seem the spiritual type.” He shook his head and her expression cleared.  
  
She shrugged dismissively and looked off into the undergrowth. “I can vaguely recall hearing similar legends when I was younger, though not many of the details.”  
  
Wakka brightened. “That’s good, ya! We c’n get Yuna t’ tell ya more when we get back t’ town. Maybe it’ll help ya remember more.”  
  
The Commander paused, then nodded. Whatever information about this place and its... eccentricities... she could gather would be valuable. For now, she gestured for the redhead to proceed her. They had animals to track and kill and that would be best served by moving on and staying silent.  
  
It was nearly dusk before they emerged from the forest again. Suspended between them, lashed to a rough-cut pole, was a long-tailed, quadrupedal deer-like animal with vicious horns and fangs. A brace of small, grey leporidae were tossed across Wakka’s shoulder while Shepard carried a bag of soft fruits at her waist. They were greeted with excitement from the villagers, a few children darting around them to admire their kills. Luzzu and Yuna met them near the plaza, Lulu not far behind her charge.  
  
“A successful day, I see,” the Crusader noted approvingly.  
  
Wakka grinned and passed over the short-eared, hare-like creatures to Gatta, who had appeared at their side. “Got a good number a’ fiends while we were out dere too; mostly dingos an’ garudas. Dey gettin’ bolder.”  
  
Yuna gasped softly while Luzzu frowned thoughtfully. The young apprentice summoner took a half-step closer to them, one hand raised to her mouth. “You’re not hurt, are you?”  
  
The redhead looked back over his shoulder at his hunting partner, who grimaced in return. Yuna quickly transferred her attentions to the Commander, mismatched eyes shining in concern.  
  
“It’s nothing,” she sighed. “A nice bruise and a cracked rib or two. I’ll be fine if I just rest for a few days.”  
  
“Oh no,” the younger girl gasped, and Shepard soon found herself the center of a small storm of people.  
  
A couple of young men she recognised from the beach the previous day stepped forward to take the pole and its burden from her while another snagged the fruit from her hip. Lulu shook her head as Yuna reached out, hesitant to touch the soldier but almost unable to hold herself back from doing so.  
  
“Come, Yuna. Shepard.” The older woman ordered, braids tinkling as she turned towards the temple.  
  
Amused and resigned, the Commander followed. Yuna walked beside her, fingers twisting nervously as she glanced up at Shepard, reminding her of a young archaeologist she’d rescued what felt like a lifetime ago. Just before the trio reached the stone steps, a hail from behind caused them to turn.  
  
“Walkin’ into the temple with weapons bare. Bolder than I thought,” the leatherworker chuckled as he caught up to them.  
  
Shepard took the offered wares from him, passing over the daggers as she buckled the sheaths around her hips. Her eyebrows raised as she noted the three separate holsters, but before she could ask, the old man returned her weapons.  
  
“Good to see you haven’t nicked ‘em, girly,” he grunted. Seeing her surprise at the complexity of his work, he shrugged. “Ya didn’t say whether you kept ‘em together or not, but I guess it doesn’t matter now.”  
“Thank you,” she murmured, testing the draw on the two thigh scabbards.  
  
The third nestled comfortably at the base of her spine and she grinned mentally. The old man had probably seen them clipped there on her armour when she first arrived in the village. Shepard withdrew the credit chip from her pocket but he waved her off.  
  
“Gimme a cut of that rusa hide you just dragged in and we’ll call it even. Ain’t seen a stag like that in quite a while.”  
  
Nodding in agreement, Shepard waited for him to start back towards his shop before she looked over at her companions. Yuna was smiling gently and Lulu watched impassively from the top of the short flight of stairs. Shrugging mentally, she resumed following the two into the temple. Silently, they moved through the cavernous main chamber and into a small room to the right of the staircase dominating the back wall. Lulu took up a post at the door, arms folded, as Yuna gestured for the Commander to sit. Wary, Shepard remained standing, turning to keep both women in her sight.  
  
“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” she pointed out when Lulu tried to stare her down. “I just don’t know what we’re doing in here or why it couldn’t have been done outside.”  
  
“Oh,” the apprentice exclaimed, turning to grab a short blue staff topped with an intricately detailed golden ring.  
  
“Part of my job as a summoner includes healing the villagers,” she explained, gesturing faintly towards Shepard’s torso. “May I?”  
  
Brows furrowed, she looked between the summoner, the rod, and Lulu in confusion. “You’re going to heal my cracked ribs... with an oversized magic wand? All I need is some tape and a couple days of light duty and they’ll be fine.”  
  
“The rod is a focus for her white magic,” Lulu murmured, stepping closer. “You... are lucky to be alive with damage this severe. Exactly how close to Sin did you get?”  
  
The Commander edged back, hands falling to her dagger hilts as she eyed the older woman with trepidation. “I don’t think that has any relevance to the current discussion.”  
  
Turning to Yuna again, she inclined her head briefly. “Do what you need to or allow me to leave and tend my wounds in private, please.”  
  
Nodding sharply, the apprentice closed her eyes and concentrated. Silently, she mouthed a few words and raised the short staff. Immediately, Shepard felt the difference in her chest as her ache subsided and she could stand straight without pain. Twisting away from Lulu’s looming presence, she lifted her shirt in time to see the last of the bruise fade into her skin.  
  
“Well that’s handy.”  
  
Looking up again, the Commander straightened her clothes again and nodded sharply to Yuna. “Thanks, but now I’m going to go help them dress the rusa, or whatever it’s called. I understand there’ll be a bonfire tonight; I’m sure there’ll be plenty of venison to go around once it’s roasted, if you two care to join.”  
  
With that, she slipped around Lulu and out into the temple proper. Silently, she took in the large room and its quiet worshippers, soaking in a little of their peace for herself. She gave a brief nod to the robed man she assumed was head priest before leaving the chilly stone room for the failing light outside. Wakka met her again at the edge of the plaza, grinning and shaking his head when she inquired about their prize. When she mentioned giving part of the hide to the leatherworker in payment, he nodded and assured her he’d get a piece for the old man. Before things really got going, Shepard slipped off for a bath and to change into the clothing the redhead had brought that morning.  
  
It seemed as though the whole of the village turned out for the bonfire, and Shepard made sure to stay to the edge of the gathering. It wasn’t that she was uncomfortable with large numbers of people she didn’t know - the myriad of Alliance formal events with mandatory attendance had seen to that - but she also didn’t want to encourage the probing questions she was sure many of the residents had, given their suspicious looks. She managed an informative conversation with Luzzu and Gatta, however, about the nature of the Crusaders. It allowed her to corroborate much of Wakka’s history lesson from earlier in the day and gain more of an insider’s perspective into the closest thing this strange world appeared to have to a military. It was late when she finally retreated to her borrowed home and prepared herself for bed.  
  
She had yet to actually fall asleep when raised voices from outside drew her back into the living area. Sneaking wasn’t exactly her expertise, but Shepard crouched in the dark of her tent and parted the entrance flaps with cautious fingers. Silhouetted by the dying fire were the unmistakable forms of Wakka and Lulu. She didn’t have to strain hard to hear their conversation, even lowered as their voices were now, without the heavy fabric between them and she tuned in with interest.  
  
“No. You can’t just go around appropriating people, whether they’ve lost their memories or not.” Lulu sounded tired, as if it were an old argument, though Shepard wondered if maybe it was just arguing with the brash redhead that was wearying.  
  
“Look, she’s a soldier, ya? Anyone can see she knows how to fight. We need that.”  
  
“Kimahri--”  
  
“Ya, I know, but it never hurts to have more,” Wakka cut her off gently but firmly. “Someone who doesn’t resent the rest of us.”  
  
“She doesn’t exactly trust us,” the proud woman sniped back.  
  
“Give her time! I wasn’t exactly subtle with th’ Yevon talk before our hunt.”  
  
Silence, in which only the crackling of the fire could be heard. Then, Lulu gave a sharp huff.  
  
“This is about Chappu, isn’t it. You want to take a Crusader as a Guardian to get back at them for his death.”  
  
“No! I just...” Wakka sighed, a pleading tone entering his voice. “Anything to keep Yuna safe, Lu.”  
  
Another silence, then finally a soft _‘tch!’_ and the rustle of heavy fabric.  
  
“We’ll take her as far as Bevelle,” she conceded. “Perhaps someone there will recognise her. Any further than that is between her and Yuna.”  
  
Lulu began to move off, her skirts rasping on the stone plaza and her braids tinkling gently. A few steps later, she stopped again, her voice carrying back a hard edge. “If there is a problem along the way, Wakka - if she brings us more danger or causes Yuna harm in any way - _you_ are responsible for it.”  
  
Unspoken was the inference that he would be the one to bear the burden of her wrath.  
  
When both of them had moved away and only the sounds of crackling embers and island nightlife filled the air, Shepard dropped back into bed and drifted off to sleep.


	4. Sumoning Valefor

It wasn’t until nearly a local week later that Wakka broached the subject Shepard had overheard him discussing with Lulu. Yuna had pointed her to a semi-secluded freshwater lagoon not far from where she had washed ashore and the Commander had taken to swimming there in the early mornings when she woke from another nightmare or simply hadn’t been able to sleep at all the night before. The calm waters were cooler than the warm ocean they flowed into, owing mostly to the shade of the overhanging cliffs, but not chilly enough to freeze her out. It was also, thankfully, far less crowded than the beach due to occasional fiend attacks and the hard coral floor.

This particular morning, Wakka appeared as she surfaced from a dive. Spotting him lounging on the thin stretch of shore at the base of the cliffs, she swam over and tossed a fishnet bag up to him before hoisting herself out of the water. He whistled at the sight of nearly two dozen molluscs clattering against each other. “Ya been busy down here.”

She shrugged and dried the blade of the small steel knife she’d traded from a villager off on the towel she’d left on the bank with her effects. While she tended to keep to herself, the old leatherworker had vouched for her honesty and willingness to trade and she had been able to acquire another change of clothing as well as a few essentials for jungle living. Yuna approached her occasionally, usually in the mornings to invite her to prayer in the temple and in the evenings to see if she needed healing. Lulu was the apprentice summoner’s constant shadow, but Shepard had not seen Kimahri since that first day. Wakka himself appeared consumed with practicing something called Blitzball which resembled a hanar sport she’d seen once on shore leave, though adapted for far fewer limbs. Apparently there was a tournament coming up soon and the local Besaid team wanted to compete.

“Been talkin’ t’ Lu ‘bout how t’ get ya back where ya belong,” Wakka began, setting the bag of oysters to the side.

Shepard hummed non-committally, drying her feet and pulling on her socks and boots. “Where’s that, then?”

The redhead chuckled and skipped a stone across the lagoon. “If I’m right an’ ya are a Crusader, there’ll be records in Bevelle. People who know ya too, hopefully.”

She had to ask. “And if you’re not?”

Her companion’s face wrinkled as he repressed a wince. Sighing, he picked up another flat rock and sent it jumping across the water. “Didn’ want t’ ask ya like dis, but Yunie’s goin’ on a trip soon. She’s gonna need people t’ watch out for her, so me an’ Lu an’ Kimahri are goin’ too. Now, we got a lotta stops between here’n Bevelle, but if ya come wit we could help ya check dem all for anyone who knows ya.”

He fidgeted slightly, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck and looking anywhere but in her direction. “If... If dey got nothin’ an’ no one else we find knows anythin’... I bet Yunie’d be happy if you came wit’ us to the, uh, end.”

Shepard didn't have to think about it long. There was no way she’d be content to stay on Besaid long term and she really needed to get back to Citadel space, so her options were to travel with people she knew at least somewhat or eventually travel with people she didn’t know at all. Not a hard choice, really. Still, she was missing some information and she certainly hadn’t missed Wakka’s stutter about their final destination. Best to leave that for later, though. Her fingers sought a smooth pebble and, with a deft flick of her wrist, it skimmed lightly across the bay before sinking just short of the opposite bank. “Why is Yuna leaving and why does she require guards for the trip? I mean, I realise she’s like some kind of royalty here, but...”

Wakka whistled low at her toss. “Not royalty,” he corrected. “Not really. Her father was th’ last High Summoner, so people honor her t’ honor him, since he’s gone an’ all. She’s an apprentice summoner too - an’ dat’s a big deal, you know? - so dey respect dat too. Once she finish prayin’ here she won’t be an apprentice anymore, but den she’s gotta make her pilgrimage. Gotta go pray at every temple in Spira. ‘S a dangerous trip, so we go an’ take care a’ her. You don’t need t’ decide now; th’ boat’ll be in dock in a few days, and then we get goin’.”

The Commander skipped another stone and stood, snagging the bag of molluscs and stowing her diving knife in its boot sheath. “Yeah, alright,” she agreed. “I’m pretty good at playing bodyguard.”

He laughed and stepped in next to her as she started back towards town. “Are ya?”

The question was deceptively light; Lulu must have drilled him in being a bit more subtle with his probing into her past. Shepard shrugged and nodded absently, twisting the truth. “I think so, anyway. Seems comfortable. Guarding people, watching their backs. Don’t think I have the right weapons yet, though.”

Wakka tensed a little at the memory of how easily she’d handled the al bhed pistol and they walked in silence for some time. Just before they reached the edge of town, he half-turned and offered a hesitant compromise. “Maybe we find ya somethin’ better once we get t’ Luca, eh? ‘S th’ next big city and we probably won’t find much before den.”

Startled at the concession, Shepard could only nod mutely as they stepped onto the central plaza. She doubted he was referring to guns - or any other kind of machina - but the gesture was still appreciated. The redhead opened his mouth to speak again, probably with an offer to share lunch or to see if she’d join him on a hunt in the jungle tomorrow, when the flustered approach of a robed priest from the temple cut him off. The bald man didn’t appear to notice her at all, stopping just short of running into the tall redhead and peering up at him anxiously.

“You could at least go see how they're doing,” he began, half-pleading and half-reproachful.

Wakka shook his head sadly, shrugging his shoulders. “We can’t interfere, it’s a rule.”

“But,” the priest tried again, eyes darting around and finally settling on her. She was politely looking away with a vaguely bored expression on her face. The man leaned closer to Wakka and lowered his voice, though she could still pick it up easily. “It’s been nearly a day. What if something’s happened?”

Wakka sighed and looked over at Shepard as well. “Hey,” he tipped his chin up as she glanced back at the pair. “I catch ya later, huh?”

She shrugged and nodded, watching as they started towards the temple, the priest looking relieved as Wakka waved him forward. Only when they disappeared into the dark of the stone building did she turn towards her borrowed accommodations to put away her weapons and change out of the shorts and shirt she usually swam in. The exchange nagged at her as she pulled on her Alliance fatigues out of habit. Wakka’s resigned acceptance of something that worried the priest and their oblique references to problems that may or may not have occurred ticked over in her mind as she prepared a small, simple lunch. By the time the Commander had finished eating, she’d already made up her mind to investigate.

Arming herself with Rikku’s knives in case of actual danger, Shepard slipped into the main chamber of the temple. Spotting Wakka chatting with the head priest, she made her way towards them casually. The bald man gave her a cautious look as she approached and made his excuses before retreating to the other side of the room. When the redhead turned, somewhat surprised at her presence, she offered up a couple soft fruits as explanation. “I doubt you stopped to eat.”

Predictably, he grinned, taking the food and thanking her happily. As he gamely tried to keep the juice from dripping down his chin, she cast her eyes around the dimly lit room and its unusually tense atmosphere. “Is something wrong?” she asked as he finished the last bite.

His expression soured slightly, she noted from the corner of her eye, and he glanced towards the stairway at the front of the room. Voice pitched low to avoid eavesdroppers, he sighed again. “Yuna hasn’t returned from the trial yet.”

“Trial?” She stayed deliberately relaxed, her tone carefully neutral.

“S’a room in dere,” he gestured towards the steps and, presumably, deeper into the temple, “called da Cloister a’ Trials. Beyond dat is th’ Chamber a’ Fayth, where the summoner prays. Remember I told you she gotta pray at every temple? Well, she starts here.” He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. “But she went in jus’ after breakfast yesterday an’ hasn’t come out yet. Nothin’ to do but wait.”

“What does the trial involve?”

Wakka shrugged, tucking his hands behind his head carelessly. “Dunno. Only summoners an’ their Guardians’re allowed into da Cloister, an’ den tha Guardians gotta wait outside da Chamber ‘til the summoner’s done.”

“So no one knows what goes on inside?” Shepard’s brows came down and she stared hard at her companion. “How do you know she’s even still alive?”

He looked down at her, startled, and his hands dropped to his sides once more. Rallying himself, Wakka shook his head. “Yunie’s fine. She come out any minute now.” He didn’t sound entirely sure of himself. “Sometimes the prayer jus’ takes longer than expected, ya?”

Shepard wasn’t ready to let this go now that she had committed to protecting the younger girl. “Longer than expected?” she demanded in a harsh whisper. “Does she even have food in there? Water? It’s been over twenty-eight hours since they went inside, by your own estimation. Forty-eight without water and you’re looking at moderate to extreme dehydration, especially in a tropical environment like this. How much physical activity is she doing in there? Has she slept?”

He held up his hands in a gesture of surprised surrender. “Whoa, whoa. Slow down, ya? I don’ know what happens in da inner chamber; no one does but da summoners. Lulu an’ Kimahri are right outside it, though, so as soon as she’s done they bring her out t’ see us, okay?”

“You’re remarkable okay with the idea of injury to someone you’ve sworn to keep safe,” she remarked sardonically, shoulders twitching as she straightened her spine and started towards the stairs.

Wakka caught back up with her just as the head priest blocked her path. “You cannot go up there,” the robed man stated boldly. “Yevon grants access to the holy places only to a summoner and their Guardians. The precepts must be obeyed!”

Her lip curled in a snarl. “Your god cares little for its chosen ones if they are denied basic necessities.”

She made to push past him but, just before her feet hit the first step, the door above them slid open to reveal Kimahri cradling an exhausted Yuna as Lulu acted as his guide. At the sight of the crowd below, the older woman smiled faintly and announced their summoner’s success. Cheers rang out from behind the Commander and the head priest shot her a smug smile, but Shepard saw only Yuna’s flushed skin and the dark circles beneath her eyes. As Kimahri descended the stairs, she could make out a pinched look on the summoner’s face and noted the ragged tenseness in her small frame that indicated she was in pain and trying to hide it. Turning to Wakka behind her, she began snapping orders with deadly seriousness.

“Go get fresh water - cool but not too cold - and soft rags. Also fruit juice, or even the fruit if it’s moist enough, and some of that fish soup, as she’ll need to replace salts. If you can, get a fan and a change of clothing, as light as possible.”

As soon as she’d finished speaking, she dismissed him without another glance and he hesitated only a moment before ducking out of the temple. Turning her attention back to the two Guardians before her, Shepard pinned Lulu with solemn eyes and twitched her chin to the right. “She can’t go outside in this heat; it’ll only make it worse. Put her in the room she healed me in and we’ll go from there.”

Kimahri snarled wordlessly and tightened his grip, pulling a moan from the girl in his arms. He looked down, assessing his charge, and Lulu placed a hand on his arm. There was another moment of silence in which Shepard stared them down before the older woman nodded silently. The crowd that had gathered parted as the trio strode purposefully towards the antechamber, Yuna curled protectively in their midst.

The head priest watched the byplay silently, weighing the strange woman’s previous actions with the distinct aura of command now surrounding her. Luzzu stepped forward as the curtain swung shut behind the small procession. “Wakka may be right,” he murmured, eyes on the covered doorway. “She certainly carries herself like a Crusader General.”

“She has no respect for Yevon and his teachings,” the priest grumbled back.

Luzzu shrugged. “It seems to me that, rather than not respecting him, she simply places the lives of people above the wishes of a god.”

He turned away as Wakka rushed back into the temple, nodding a greeting and gesturing to the side room that contained his friends. When the Blitzballer had slipped around the curtain with a nod of thanks, Luzzu gave the priest a deferential bow and retreated outside to begin preparations for the celebrations later that night. The bald man he left behind glanced towards the antechamber once more before sighing and making his way to his small, quiet office to compose a letter to the Maesters.

Wakka, on the other hand, walked into a room as charged as the air on the Thunderplains. Yuna had been laid out of a pile of cushions, her eyes closed and her feet elevated. Her boots had been removed, as had her sleeves. Her obi had been loosened, but she was still flush and feverish. Kimahri stood over her prone form, teeth bared at Shepard who merely stared him down with a dangerously flat look. Lulu stood to the side, watching impassively and toying with one of her moogle dolls in case she needed to interfere. At the redhead’s appearance, Shepard looked away from her staring match, pulling a growl from the Ronso as he was once again dismissed. Lulu sighed and stepped forward to take the change of clothes from Wakka, gesturing him to put the provisions he’d rounded up on a low table that had been pushed against the wall.

“Everythin’ okay in here?” he asked cautiously.

“It’d be fine,” Shepard muttered as she sorted through the various containers of fluid he’d brought, “if a certain giant blue lion man would leave so we could get Yuna out of that stifling outfit. She’s retaining too much heat but I refuse to expose her body to him without express permission just because he thinks I’ll stab her the moment he’s not looking.”

“I will not allow you to harm Yuna,” the Ronso snarled lowly. “She merely needs rest, preferably without your interfering presence.”

“What she needs is water,” Shepard snapped back, pinning him with a blazing look. “Your negligence has put her life in danger. She’s overheated but she isn’t sweating; she has a headache and, I suspect, stomach cramps. If you don’t allow me to cool her down now as well as get some damn fluids into her, this condition will deteriorate until she wastes away before your eyes.”

Wakka raised his eyebrows at Lulu, who nodded faintly. Sighing, he stepped up to Kimahri, breaking the line of sight between him and Shepard. “Come on. We be right outside an’ Lu ain’t helpless. She take care of it, ya?”

Lulu nodded again and moved forward as well, but Kimahri refused to be swayed. A frustrated noise exploded from Shepard’s throat and the room turned to her as one. In three deft movements, she’d removed her daggers and boot knife, thrusting them hilt-first towards Wakka. Impatiently, she ground out her concession. “Look, take them. Now I’m unarmed and you’ll be just on the other side of the curtain with that big spear all ready to gut me. Lulu will be here the whole time and as soon as she’s changed you can come back in, but for now _get out you paranoid bastard._ ”

The silence after that statement was brief. Shocked as they were that she was willingly giving up her weapons, Lulu still snapped into action to usher both males out of the room. She made sure Wakka held the three blades - correctly assuming Shepard was concerned Kimahri would simply fail to return them - and tugged the curtain closed on their startled faces. Immediately, the two women began tugging the heavy silks from Yuna’s frame, Shepard muttering darkly all the while.

Kimahri was gone when they pulled the curtain back again. Wakka shrugged uncomfortably but didn’t offer any other explanation as he returned the Commander’s weapons. Rolling her eyes, Shepard put the issue aside and returned to her temporary patient. She was no Chakwas for sure, but even the basic field training she had was better than nothing. Without a thought for her audience, Shepard activated her omnitool and began flipping through the programs for the health diagnostic that would normally route squad status to her hardsuit.

A sharp gasp from Lulu made her look up just as she found what she was looking for. The mage was staring at the orange glow over her arm while Wakka had darted up to close them off from the temple at large once more. Ignoring their stares to select the program she wanted, Shepard was about to begin her scan of Yuna when tiny plush limbs wrapped around her hand. Her brow furrowed as she looked down on a the little white... _what is that, anyway? A bear with an antenna and wings? Lulu was holding it earlier..._

“This thing yours?” She asked, lifting her arm and bringing the doll with it.

Lulu ignored her question entirely. “What is that and what were you about to do to Yuna?”

“Do to her? Nothing. I was going to scan her to get a better idea of her status, but if you’d rather I didn’t...” Shepard shrugged, gaze shifting from Lulu’s focussed expression to Wakka’s cautiously wary one and back as she lowered her arm again and deactivated the omnitool.

“But what was that?” The mage didn’t seem to quite believe her, though both she and Wakka had relaxed somewhat.

Shepard looked down at her hand, twisting it to grab the plush bear-thing and holding it up for inspection. She flicked the red bobble on its antenna and raised an eyebrow. “Magic. Want me to demonstrate on someone else first?”

“How about yourself?”

Shrugging again, she set the doll on the floor and it obediently trotted back to its master. “It doesn’t work on the user,” she replied, twisting the answer to avoid their questions.

In truth, she wasn’t even sure if it would work on Yuna. She hadn’t had a chance to try it on anyone else, though she’d already run the program on herself several times as she tested the limits of her omnitool on nights she couldn’t sleep and didn’t feel like making the trek to the lagoon. It synched with her hardsuit just fine, but it failed to list her vitals even when she was wearing full kit. She refused to believe it was anything but a glitch like the ones she’d found that first night.

“Alright. You try on me, ya?” Wakka volunteered, stepping closer to the door to keep Yuna out of the line of fire should something go wrong.

Lulu watched her closely as she stood, rolling her shoulders and reactivating her omnitool once she was no longer standing over the summoner’s prone form. Selecting the diagnostic again, Shepard swept her orange-covered hand in front of the Blitzballer, crouching to cover the whole of him in one go. Relief and worry filled her in equal measures as a generic human male wireframe model appeared and text began scrolling beside it, noting old injuries and inconsistencies in muscle mass and bone density. She managed to keep her face blank, channelling her medic’s professional nature even as she buried her fears on why she couldn’t pull her own vitals from the technology.

Wakka stepped around to peer over her shoulder, curious at what information it showed her. “What’s it say?” he murmured, practically in her ear, and she glanced up at him, startled.

“You can’t read it?” The words were out before she could check herself and he shrugged.

Lulu frowned at them, but said nothing; Shepard mirrored the action. “It’s only an initial assessment, but it’s pretty good for physical abnormalities.”

She pointed to the model’s left arm and the program zoomed in obligingly, peeling away virtual skin and muscle. More detailed text appeared at the side, and she skimmed it briefly. “You broke your arm when you were younger.”

The redhead’s eyebrows raised in surprise even as he rubbed the offending limb. “Got healed up jus’ fine though, by a mage an’ everythin’. How’d you know?”

“The bone is different at the break point, where the magic sealed it back together.” She turned and held out her hand, the tool still glowing brightly against her palm.

“There’s a secondary part to the... spell. It’ll be more useful for Yuna, but I assume you’ll want me to demonstrate on you first. I’ll need your hand. The ungloved one,” she clarified when he started to offer up his left.

“This might sting a little,” she muttered, maneuvering him so that his palm hovered just above hers, directly atop the orange circle.

A small beep sounded after a few seconds and Shepard twisted away from the almost-contact to watch the new results scroll across her screen. This time Lulu shifted closer as well, her curiosity finally pulling her to see if she could read what Wakka couldn’t. Blood type, cell counts, skin moisture content, and genome anomalies scrolled almost too fast to catch but the Commander was well versed in picking the necessary information from excess jargon. Twitching her fingers to pause at the genetic breakdown, she frowned deeply.

“Wakka,” she began slowly, “are you capable of magic?”

“Sure,” he replied easily with a tilt of his head. “Why?”

It made no sense, she grumbled mentally. The sections normally associated with biotic use were dormant, and a whole new area had lit up like the Citadel on the anniversary of the end of the Krogan Rebellions. Flagging the section with a note and saving the results as a baseline for future reference, she looked up at her audience. A wry smile twisted her lips, completely at odds with her internal turmoil, and she gestured to their patient with her unadorned hand. “Can I check her out now or do I have to do you first, Lulu?”

The mage huffed quietly but retreated. “Do as you will,” she allowed, skirts rustling as she sat beside Yuna once more.

Several hours passed before they allowed the young summoner to leave the cool stone building. Shepard had relayed her recommendations - a lot more water, no alcohol, fish soup and fruit for the next several meals, minimal exertion and cool baths only for the next few days - to the pair before they emerged into the temple proper. The villagers had crowded on the steps outside and cheered as Yuna waved to them all joyfully. She looked much better than when she had first stumbled from the Chamber of the Fayth into her Guardians’ arms, and her good mood lifted the spirits of everyone waiting below. Shepard hung back in the shadow of the walls, unwilling to draw more attention to herself as Yuna, Wakka, and Lulu were escorted down onto the plaza by the head priest. The townspeople clustered around her to offer congratulations but soon they backed off towards the edge of the stone circle, leaving Yuna alone in the center, clutching her staff.

All conversation ceased when the young summoner raised her arms, circling them wide before bringing the staff back to center. Concentrating deeply, she lowered it until the carved golden disk was just above her head. Shepard furrowed her brow as the gathered people seemed to hold their breath as one. Without warning, Yuna moved. Left arm down and right arm up, the staff raised to the heavens behind her, she twisted and bent in a strange sort of half-bow as though she was beginning a dance with an invisible partner. In a swirl of power, colours began to appear at her feet, twisting upwards and out as a circle of runes surrounded her briefly. Yuna held her pose as the lights coalesced on her form before erupting into the sky. Shepard had to check her automatic reach for a pistol she wasn’t carrying as a tinny chime sounded and its shockwave swirled the clouds angrily. A bright flash came from the center of the miniature storm. Then a roar echoed across the island like the noise of a frigate-class ship coming into dock and a huge winged creature swept down from the suddenly too-blue sky. Shepard pinched herself discreetly as the massive bird-dragon flapped its wings and came to settle directly in front of its summoner.

She was so caught up in watching Yuna reach out and tentatively pet the feathered neck of a monster that could snap her in half with barely a thought that she didn’t even notice she had company until a massive hand wrapped around her bicep and dragged her around the corner of the temple. Snarling, Shepard drew one of her daggers and twisted, slashing blindly. The disgruntled huff and answering growl kept her from lopping Kimahri's hand off at the wrist, but it was a close thing. She jerked her arm from his grip, glaring up at him balefully. “What the hell is your deal, fuzzy?”

“My deal,” he rumbled back dangerously, “is that you are an unknown. A danger to Yuna’s mission. You will remain here when she leaves on her Pilgrimage.”

“Like hell I will,” Shepard scoffed back, returning her weapon to its place and crossing her arms defiantly. “I’m only an unknown because you’ve been off hiding for the past week and a half while I’ve been interacting with the rest of the island.”

She looked him up and down blatantly, “You’re the real danger to this mission if you keep letting personal problems get in the way of actually protecting your target.”

“I have watched over Yuna since she was a child,” Kimahri bristled. “I do not need your assistance.”

“You wouldn’t think so, would you?” Shepard muttered rhetorically.

He planted the butt of his polearm in the dust at their feet and nodded with finality.

“And yet here I am.” She spread her arms wide and raised her chin in a gesture of confident defiance. “You have an issue with me, that’s fine. We don’t have to get along on a personal level to work together. The problem is that Yuna was practically _dying in your arms_ and you fought with me rather than do what was best for her. Think about that and tell me truthfully that I am the real danger on her mission.”

“You have already come close to disrupting the rites she must perform and we have yet to truly set out,” the Ronso returned. “You do not even know our destination.”

The Commander sighed and crossed her arms again. “Putting aside the fact that you didn’t acknowledge my concern, have you actually talked to anyone about my coming along?”

When he only looked confused, she snorted in disbelief. “My destination is Bevelle. Wakka is convinced I’m a Crusader and that someone there will know me. If that doesn’t pan out,” she stressed the conditional, “then it will be up to Yuna to ask me to continue with her.”

Kimahri gave her a scrutinising look and she quirked her eyebrow. _Let him look_ , she laughed to herself. _It’s not as if he’s any scarier than my first drill sergeant._ After a few minutes, he broke their stalemate with a snarl and leapt away into the jungle without another word. Shepard stared after him in disbelief before shaking her head once and turning back to the plaza just in time to see the huge beast take off from the ground. Hands on her dagger hilts, she leaned back to watch it soar out over the temple before dissolving into a hundred brilliant lights to disperse in the upper atmosphere. Filing the encounter away to examine later, she rolled the tension from her shoulders and headed off to find her new charge.

That night saw another bonfire, this time on the beach. The smell of roasting fish and vegetables was underscored with wood smoke swirling in the salt air. Long after most of the townspeople had returned to their beds, the Commander sat at the edge of the sand where the scrub grasses began and the light of the dying fire barely touched. She was joined by others in groups of twos and threes until all those who were still awake had formed a cluster high above the incoming tide.

“Shepard?”

“Mm?”

“Where did you get those scars? I-if you can remember, I mean.”

Gatta’s voice was soft, as if he was afraid of letting it reach the dark of the jungle beyond their loose circle. Despite his initial standoffishness she’d come to like the young Crusader, so when Wakka opened his mouth to protest she silenced him with a look.

Turning slightly, she favoured Gatta with a softer glance. “Which scars?”

“The ones on your face.” He seemed startled that she might have more and that they might not have all come from the same incident.

“A fight, when I was younger,” she replied quietly, rubbing the line that bisected her eyebrow. “I was lucky to escape with my life, never mind the scars.”

She barely noticed as other conversations fell silent around them, everyone eager to hear more about the enigmatic stranger in their midst. Swallowing heavily, she consciously relaxed and focussed on the sound of the waves.

“It was a fiend,” she wove her tale with care, mindful of what they knew and what they only thought they knew. “Larger than any I had ever seen before.”

She gestured expansively to demonstrate, and eyes widened around the circle. “I was small and had gone out alone, far away from where I was supposed to be and without telling anyone. It surprised me, leaping onto my back before I could draw my weapon. It was only luck that kept my neck from its jaws.”

She turned her head and tugged the collar of her fatigues down across her shoulder to expose a ragged line of discoloured tissue disappearing beneath her shirt. It was the leading edge of a wound that, even a century before, would have caused the loss of her arm. Some of her audience gasped, and she shrugged her clothing back into place. “We fought and I managed to kill it, but I was badly wounded. I don’t recall how I returned, or even who healed me. These scars are all the reminder I have.”

The silence when she finished was broken only by the crackling of the fire. Eventually, a young girl she’d seen hanging around the Lodge spoke up hesitantly. “D-do you remember anything else? F-from before, I mean.”

Though everyone was likely wondering the same, Shepard noted that the question earned the girl more than a few stern looks. She tipped her head back, staring up at the sky. “Stars,” she sighed. “The infinite night sparkling with jewels all around. I felt like I could touch them all.”

It was Yuna who spoke up next and no one dared to glare at Braska’s daughter. “What was it like, so close to the heavens?”

The Commander hesitated, her eyes still on the deep blue-black of the night above them. “Beautiful beyond words,” she finally replied, “and so unforgivingly cruel. I lost more to their glittering promises than I could ever imagine and yet I would return in a heartbeat if I knew how.”

Only Wakka, seated closest to her, heard the final words she whispered into the night.

“They’re the only home I have anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter comes with a bit of an extra. Originally I was going to have Shepard head down into the Cloister, but I decided that ultimately it would be better if she didn't tip her own hand too soon. The scene was written however, and I enjoy the righteously-upset Commander enough to share the first draft of the temple scene with you. So here you are, one Tidus-esque rule-breaking snarl-fest. Enjoy!
> 
> \---
> 
> He watched as her face darkened with each word he spoke. Finally, she could take no more and twitched towards the stairs. He grasped her elbow and tried to placate her. "Wait, there are already guardians in there. Besides, it's forbidden."
> 
> " _Forbidden?_ " That single word held more scorn than he'd ever imagined, especially considering their earlier argument. "You would leave Yuna - a person you know and care for - to face unknown trials and possibly death, _alone?_ You have the means to help and yet you stand by and say you are _not allowed? Childish._ "
> 
> Knocking aside his restraining hand, Shepard sprinted upwards, the priest reaching futilely after her as he called out, "The precepts must be obeyed! Yevon-"
> 
> Turning at the top of the stairs, a fire blazed in her eyes as she snarled back at the quivering man, "I am a Spectre. I am beholden to no one but the Council, least of all a simple _god._ "
> 
> And with that, she spun and entered the Cloister of Trials.


	5. Massacre at the Kilika Docks

Two days later the call came up from the docks; the small ferry to Kilika Island had been sighted on the horizon and would arrive late in the afternoon. Yuna had come by the Commander’s tent earlier than usual that evening to pass on the information, then stayed to chat as Shepard began packing up the belongings she’d acquired in preparation for their departure the next morning. As she laid out her armour and performed last minute checks to ensure it was ready to wear, the teenager regaled her with stories of the High Summoners and the legends of the great battles that preceded each Calm. The idea of allowing an enemy time to regroup just for the illusion of peace curdled in Shepard’s gut as she recalled the Council’s dismissal of the Reaper threat as soon as Sovereign had been defeated. The more she heard of the legends of the men and women who had completed their Pilgrimages, the more a disturbing trend emerged.

“Has any High Summoner ever survived the fight with Sin?”

Yuna looked shocked for a moment, then shook her head with a sad smile on her face. “No. Summoning the Final Aeon - the only way to defeat Sin - is too much. It overwhelms them both, usually catching their Guardians in the backlash. Sir Auron is the only one I know of that has survived.”

“Wait, back up,” Shepard frowned, setting aside her work to give her full focus to the younger girl. “You’re saying that this trip will ultimately end in your death? No second chances; do not pass go, do not collect 200 credits?”

Yuna looked briefly confused, then gave her a small, resigned smile and nodded shortly. The Commander stood abruptly and began pacing, muttering to herself. “A suicide mission. Why is it always a suicide mission? There must be something about that Final Aeon that overloads... no, no. If one person survived, there must be a blast radius; it implies a chance of escape.”

“Right, well,” Shepard turned back to her companion with a hard set to her jaw. Crouching to bring herself face to face with the kneeling Yuna, she grimly explained, “I don’t believe in suicide missions, so here’s the deal. You,” she poked a gentle finger into the summoner’s shoulder, “are going to live to see your Calm, even if I have to tear Sin to pieces with my bare hands to make it so. There’s no way that monster will be coming back from it, either. Got it?”

There was a stunned silence for only a moment before that soft smile turned genuinely bright. Shepard watched, mildly alarmed, as Yuna’s mismatched eyes filled with tears and then she had her arms full of laughing, crying teenager. Treat her like any other war orphan, the soldier told herself sternly, rocking back on her heels to keep from falling over. _Don’t shove her off just because you’re uncomfortable._ When she had calmed down somewhat, Yuna pulled back and wiped her cheeks with the back of one hand, still smiling.

“So,” Shepard started, trying for casual in the wake of so much awkward emotion. “Who’s this Sir Auron guy?”

“Oh!” Yuna clasped the the silver charm at her throat. “He was one of my father’s Guardians when he made his Pilgrimage ten years ago. Sir Auron lost an eye, and nearly lost his life, to Sin’s final attack. Kimahri found him at the base of Mount Gagazet and promised to look after me in his stead.”

Shepard reminded herself to get a map of the world as soon as she could. “Why couldn’t he look after you himself? This island isn’t exactly a death trap or anything.”

“I don’t think he was sure that he would live,” the summoner replied sadly. “Kimahri told me he fell unconscious as soon as he got a positive answer.”

She began to make tea almost absently, and Shepard left off her organisation to scrounge up the makings for dinner. “I didn’t always live on Besaid, either,” Yuna sighed as the water boiled. “But this is as far away from there as we could get. I’m glad we came, too,” she added with much more cheer. “I might never have met Wakka and Lulu and everyone otherwise!”

“You seem to have collected a fair number of Guardians,” the Commander agreed idly. “Is there a set number you have to bring with you?”

What she wanted to ask was, _Is the Pilgrimage some sick form of population control?_

“Oh no, my father had only two but some have been rumored to travel with six or more.”

Okay, now she was curious. “Who accompanied your father? Sir Auron and..?”

Before the blank could be filled, Lulu stepped into the open doorway. “There you are, Yuna. The priest is hoping you will lead a last prayer before tomorrow.”

“Of course!” The teenager jumped up.

She gave a hasty bow to a bemused Shepard, who merely waved her apologies off. “Don’t forget to eat well and get a good night’s sleep, Yuna,” she called after the escaping summoner.

“I will make sure of it,” Lulu murmured as she followed her wayward charge at a more sedate pace.

Shaking her head, the Commander finished her preparations with military efficiency. As she sat down to her meal, she pondered what to do with the pistol. Ideally she would just wear it on her hip where it could be useful, but perhaps it would be better to pack it with her spare clothing and wait until they were somewhere isolated to bring it up with the two mages. Groaning softly at the complication, she slipped the weapon into the heavy canvas seabag she’d bartered from a tailor and the ammunition into the pouches on her armour. Setting an alarm for sunrise, Shepard closed the front flap of her borrowed home and tried to follow her own advice.

When Wakka came to retrieve her the next morning, he found the armoured soldier standing near the entrance to her tent, helmet in hand as she watched the sun rise over the temple. She was still as a statue, harsh lines of obsidian softened in the lifting fog, and he paused to take in the imposing sight she made against the crimson dawn. She tilted her head just so, catching him with the corner of her eye, so he stepped closer and set his pack down beside her own.

“Red sky at morning,” she murmured when he’d come even with her.

“Huh?”

Shepard was silent for so long he wasn’t even sure he’d heard her speak in the first place. Finally, she rolled her shoulders and brushed gauntleted fingers gently against the dagger hilts at the small of her back. “Only a memory.”

He tipped his head in question as she nodded a greeting to the approaching Lulu. When the other woman was within hearing range, Shepard elaborated.  “It’s a line from an old seadog’s rhyme. ‘Red skies at morning, sailors take warning.' We should stay alert on the water today."

The black mage eyed her solemnly for a minute before nodding. “Yuna is saying her goodbyes. We will all depart together when she is finished.”

“Kimahri also?” Shepard questioned, somewhat surprised that the standoffish Ronso would agree to join them on the walk down to the beach.

Wakka nodded, tucking his hands behind his head. “From here on out, we guard Yuna every step a th’ way. He’ll meet up wit’ us ‘fore we get too far outta town.”

Yuna’s appearance on the steps of the temple forestalled any further conversation. Lulu sighed as she saw the heavy trunk the young summoner was hefting. “You really don’t need all that luggage, you know.”

“Oh! It’s not all mine,” the teenager began, blushing. “I’ve got gifts for the other temples we’re to visit.”

Shepard stepped forward before anyone else could comment, tipping the trunk onto it’s base and flicking open the latches. Layered beside a few spare outfits were less than a half dozen folded tapestries, intricately woven in the unique style of the island. She ran her glove gently over the delicate cloth, tracing a glyph she’d seen carved on the door to the Cloister of Trials. Turning just enough to watch the other Guardians’ reactions, she commented softly, “These must have taken the weavers a long time to complete. Did you commission them just for this journey?”

Yuna’s blush deepened and she fidgeted slightly. “Y-yes.”

“Well,” the Commander replied in a neutral tone, “all we need to do is teach you how to pack a little more efficiently, alright?”

She could hear Lulu sigh a little, but Wakka’s chuckle and Yuna’s tentative smile overrode any objections the older woman might have made. Pulling out the credit chit she had yet to actually use, she handed it to the young summoner. “Go see if the tailor is awake yet, and ask for a sailcloth bag like she sold me. I’ll get these sorted while you’re gone.”

The summoner’s grin as she rushed off, Wakka trailing behind her, was echoed on Shepard’s face as she began to pull the tapestries from the heavy trunk. Lulu stepped up beside her, a faintly disapproving look on her face even as she reached down to help. “You shouldn’t encourage her. This isn’t a vacation.”

“Nothing wrong with showing gratitude where you can,” the soldier returned lightly. “I told her I would make sure she lived to see her Calm but if I can’t keep that promise, why should I take away the joy she gets in giving to others? If she only has a limited time to live, let her do so as she sees fit.”

The older woman was silent as they finished refolding Yuna’s luggage. As the young summoner appeared on the other edge of the plaza, canvas bag in hand and brilliant smile on her face, Lulu tipped her head in a faint nod. “I understand,” she sighed, braids tinkling. “And thank you.”

Shepard didn’t acknowledge her as Yuna rushed up to them, turning her focus instead to showing the teenager how to pack lightly. Wakka stashed the trunk in his house while Shepard latched her helmet and gathered up both their bags. With one last bow to the temple and town, the quartet set off for the beach. As soon as they rounded the first bend, Kimahri stepped out of the jungle and took the pack from Yuna’s shoulder. Shepard ignored the teeth he bared in her direction, and struck up a conversation with Lulu about her dolls and the mythical or legendary creatures they represented.

They were undisturbed by fiends on the winding path they took - presumably a group as large as they were with openly displayed weaponry was not an attractive target to those with even limited intelligence - and they reached the stone monolith overlooking the town with good time. Shepard, near the rear of the group, watched as the other two women paused at the edge of the cliff. She pulled even with Wakka as Yuna turned away again to approach the monument and kneel before it.

“S’an ancient custom,” the blitzballer explained softly, without prompting. “People leavin’ th’ island pray here for a safe trip. Chappu...” He trailed off and Shepard politely turned her attention to Lulu as the mage bowed before the stone. “He didn’t pray when he left. Swore he’d miss ‘is boat.”

Wakka cleared his throat self-consciously and moved towards the monolith himself. Shepard watched him settle on his knees beside Yuna, a curious tilt to her head when even Kimahri pressed a blue-furred hand to the rock and closed his eyes briefly. She wasn’t particularly religious - meeting Sovereign had really only cemented her disbelief in ‘benevolent higher powers’ - but a good soldier knows when to keep their head down, mouth shut, and follow the pack. The Commander stepped forward and lowered herself to one knee just behind and to the right of Yuna. She crossed herself, resolutely not thinking about her last Gunnery Sergeant, and placed her open palm over her heart, bowing her head. After a moment she stood again, stepping back to watch the treeline for fiends.

Both Lulu and Yuna gave her soft smiles as they passed on the way back to the trail and Wakka clapped her shoulder companionably, even if his own grin was strained. The second half of their walk to the beach was spent in contemplative silence, broken only twice by fiend attacks. The first was a pack of dingos, easily subdued between Kimahri’s spear, her daggers, and Wakka’s blitzball. The second was a single flan that had unfortunately gurgled its way onto the path. Lulu had huffed when their physical attacks appeared to do absolutely nothing against the jelly and raised her arm, calling down a shock of lighting that flash-fried the goo. Shepard grimaced as she cleaned her blades and sheathed them, resolving to find or build a codex of fiends so as to avoid wasted attacks in the future.

Though no one else had accompanied them and they hadn’t passed anyone on the road, it looked like the entire town had beaten them to the beach in order to see them off. Shepard was glad for the distance her armour gave her as well-wishers crowded in to press presents on the departing summoner. Eventually they made it onto the quay and managed to usher Yuna up the gangplank before the mob could delay the ferry weighing anchor. The Commander hung back in the shadows of the wheelhouse as the rest of their entourage crowded the rails, waving furiously and calling back goodbyes to the islanders they were leaving behind. She was glad when they passed out of hearing range, because Yuna finally allowed herself to be escorted to her cabin.

Despite the dawn’s omen, the seas were calm and Shepard took advantage of the small size of the _SS Liki_ to explore. It was a bit of a comfort to find that after years of being formally enlisted in a navy, she didn’t actually get seasick. Below decks she exchanged small talk with a flamboyant merchant who complimented her armour but sniffed disdainfully over the al bhed designs on her weapons. More amused than anything, she left him to his mutterings, waved a brief hello to one of Wakka’s blitzball players, and made her way back up onto the deck. Yuna stood alone at the bow, Lulu and Kimahri watching silently over her from the shade at midship. Shepard picked her way to the fore slowly, exchanging nods and polite greetings with the crew as she approached the summoner. Idly, she leaned one hip against the rail post beside the teenager, tucking her helmet under one arm to savor the breeze on her face.

“I’ve heard,” Yuna began after nearly five minutes of silence, “that somewhere up there in the sky is a great station floating amidst a cloud of brilliantly coloured star dust. It has three great arms, each longer than all of Spira, where anything you can think of can be bought and no one ever sleeps.”

The soldier released a careful breath, forcibly keeping her tone casual as she stared out at the blue sea before them. “Where did you hear that?”

“My father’s Guardian told me, long ago.”

“Not Sir Auron, I presume, but the other one?”

“Un,” Yuna agreed, folding her fingers together and peering at the Commander from the corner of her eye.

Unclenching her jaw, Shepard managed to ask, “What was his name?”

“...Major Shepard.”

There was an ominous creaking from her gauntlet as her free hand fisted tightly. Shepard forced herself to relax at Yuna’s soft gasp. “When?” she managed to choke out.

“E-eh?"

“When did he arrive here?”

“T-ten years ago,” the summoner replied softly, concerned. Her gaze dropped to her folded hands as she added, “I remember because it was the day my father left.”

The Commander’s bitter laugh echoed over the bowsprit. “Yeah,” she gasped hollowly. “Mine too.”

Yuna’s eyes widened and she stepped closer. “Really? Then.. our meeting like this must be the blessing of Yevon!”

Shepard shook her head at the thought of divine interference. “He shipped out on the _Cartagena_ , which was lost with all hands somewhere in the Maroon Sea.”

“I... I’m sorry.”

One shoulder rolled in a distracted shrug. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I certainly didn’t mourn him.”

Yuna made a distressed noise and inched closer still but before she could say anything, the ship rocked violently, tossing them both towards the portside rail. Grasping the rope railing in one hand and her helmet in the other, the Commander managed to catch Yuna in the crook of her arm before she was tossed overboard but it was a close thing. Bracing her feet wide, she grunted a command to hold on tightly as the _Liki_ rolled down the other side of the wave that had crested beneath them. The younger girl’s arms came about her shoulders and Shepard twisted to shield her from the spray that shot up over the bow. Kimahri leapt up to their position as the ship leveled out again, pulling Yuna from the soldier’s arms possessively. Ignoring him, Shepard used the reprieve to don her helmet, sealing it just as the water roiled off the starboard quarter. A scaled black fin surged forth from the spray, arching easily as high as the main mast and moving forwards to cut ahead of the ferry. Someone screamed.

_“SIN!”_

Passengers hurried to get belowdecks as the crew scattered to furl the sails and tighten the riggings. Two sailors stepped forwards to man the deck-mounted harpoon launchers, faces set with grim determination.

“What ya think ya doin’?” Wakka yelled. “Stick a harpoon in ‘im an’ we’ll all get dragged unda!”

“Sin is headed for Kilika,” one of the men called back. “We’ve got to distract it!”

The other looked over his shoulder sadly. “Our families... Forgive us, Lady Summoner.”

Yuna held his gaze for only a moment before nodding in understanding. Blowing out a relieved breath, the two lined up their shots and let the barbed projectiles fly. “Oh boy,” Wakka muttered as one fell short and the other bit deep into dark flesh.

The line snapped taut, jerking the _Liki_ forwards and sending another wash of seawater over the deck as the bow dipped briefly under the surface. Shepard cursed as what she’d first taken to be scales broke off the main body and shot towards the ship, thudding into the deck with deadly force. She drew her daggers as they split open and unfurled to reveal chittering four-legged bird-fiends. Sin swerved, drawing astarboard, and Lulu raised her arm to call lightning down upon it. Wakka hissed a breath between his teeth and wound up a hard shot with his blitzball. Kimahri released his charge and drew his spear and, for a brief moment, Shepard was sure he would attempt to launch either the weapon or himself at Sin but he called out what must be some of his own magic to siphon energy from the huge beast.

Wishing desperately for a rocket launcher, the Commander instead turned her attention to the fiends on board, darting between the flickering wings and grasping claw-like jaws to rake her daggers down their vulnerable spines. She staggered as they turned their attention to her rather than the fleeing crew and her kinetic barrier collapsed under their suddenly focussed assault. Twisting, she ducked behind a crate to let it recharge, but groaned as she realised Yuna was still standing exposed on the deck. Charging back out, she grabbed the summoner by the arm and dragged her behind a pile of boxes. “Stay here; stay out of trouble,” she growled impatiently, thrusting a knotted rope into the teenager’s hand and bracing them both as Sin swung back aport.

The _Liki_ listed dangerously as the harpoon line pulled her into the swell of another wave. Shepard swept back into the fray as soon as the ship levelled off, grimly pleased to see that only a scant few fiends had managed to stay aboard through the abrupt directional change. Cutting down one as it leapt for Lulu’s exposed back, she slid sideways into Kimahri as a second lit up her barrier with an energy blast. A blue paw settled on her shoulder and the Commander tensed for his shove but it didn’t come. Risking a glance up, she met one piercing eye through her faceplate before the Ronso nodded and returned his attention to Sin. Setting her jaw, she did the same with its spawn. It was as the last scale-bird went down that the over-stressed rope connecting the ship to Sin snapped, lashing across the deck and catching an unprepared Wakka across the chest. Shepard hit the water a half-second after him.

Powerful strokes guided her through the churning deep to the rapidly sinking Guardian-adept, omni-tool glowing orange as she scanned for his vitals. The Commander swore as the wide-angle search revealed a hostile convening on their location as well. As swiftly as possible, Shepard looped an arm around the unconscious blitzballer and began swimming for the surface. Her unoccupied hand palmed a spare pack of medigel, slipping under his loose shirt to split it open on his bruised chest. She lamented the lack of spare breather as they broke the surface, Wakka choking and gasping as he came to abruptly. Her fatigue burned away, and she glanced up to see Yuna standing at the _Liki_ ’s rail, deep in concentration with Kimahri and Lulu flanking her. Wakka perked up as a second healing spell enveloped him, just in time for them to both be wrapped in tentacles and dragged back under.

Snarling, Shepard stabbed at the restricting appendage viciously until it let go. She really didn’t want to have another underwater fight, but one look at her companion showed her he wasn’t going to retreat. Cursing again, she grabbed the retreating tentacle and let it reel her in to the mutated jellyfish it came from, aiming for the fleshy orange ribbing beneath its ‘head.’ Her daggers bit deep, but she was soon tossed away with a hard slap to her chest. Wakka’s blitzball knocked hard into the fiend in retaliation, and Shepard could see a dark powder shake free of the hide and cloud the waters. Filing it away as one more thing to question, the Commander pushed forward again, intent on finishing the fight.

Despite her will, it took several more passes before, with a last muted, moist thud of Wakka’s unconventional weapon, the jellyfish dissolved into pyreflies. Without hesitation, Shepard grabbed the blitzballer’s arm and tugged him towards the dark shadow of the ship above. When they had clawed their way back on board, she turned to see the cresting swell that was Sin race its way forward towards the unsuspecting town. In a rage, she tore her helmet off, barely stopping herself from flinging it down to the deck as she pressed against the bow ropes.

 _“No!”_ Shepard screamed over the cries of the terrified crew. _“Come back and fight, coward! Oath-breaking, planet-burning, honourless son of a pyjak! I’ll crush your eggs beneath my boots! I’ll tear off your plates and feed you to a vorcha, you quadless, barefaced varren-spawn!”_

She broke off into a bastardised mixture of Palavish and Tuchankan insults she’d learned hanging around the hold with Garrus and Wrex. Throwing in some of Tali’s more colourful Fleet expressions for flavour, she alternately goaded and cursed Sin until her throat was raw and she sagged with exhaustion. The entire ship’s complement watched in mute horror as Sin finally broke the surface of the bay, creating a tidal wave that swept destruction through the port. Even when they thought the worst was over and the wash had begun to retreat to the sea, the abomination was unsatisfied. Yuna sucked in a startled breath and the crew began sobbing anew as the wind picked up and the docks, trees, houses, and _people_ were ripped up and flung into the air like so many broken toys. They hung in a morbid spiral for too many long moments before Sin seemed to grow bored and dropped them. As swiftly as it had appeared, it was sinking beneath water that should be too shallow to hide its bulk and disappearing.

She felt lost as the _SS Liki_ cut slowly through the detritus of a once-vibrant town. With leaden limbs, she helped the crew pull corpses from the waves so they could be given a proper funeral when they docked. She hadn’t known any of them and yet she could feel the weight of their lives like the touch of her own ghosts. Shuddering, she sloughed them off before they could drag her under. The crew walked the deck like the living dead and each body brought new anguish; she couldn’t afford to drown with them. It looked as though everyone who had survived Sin’s rampage gathered on the Kilika dock as they finally drifted into port. Yuna was first off, searching out the nearest elder and asking to be brought to any wounded. Lulu and Kimahri followed her closely, leaving Wakka and Shepard to help the crew unload their morbid cargo.

The sending was performed at sunset three days later. Shepard had already breathed prayers over the dead as she helped push them into the ocean. No one questioned it as she murmured entreaties to the drell goddess Kalahira to take their loved ones across the sea; those rites seemed fitting for the manner of their burial. Everyone gathered on the docks as Yuna made her way down to where the planks disappeared beneath the waves. She spoke softly to the elder who had guided her here before bowing deeply, then turned and stepped out onto the ocean. Time seemed to slow as her bare feet slipped almost soundlessly over the water, carrying her delicately above the flower-draped reed coffins that had been sunk into the bay.

The Commander saw her pause, head down, before bare shoulders dropped back and her spine arched with indrawn breath. The blue and golden rod arced out and someone on shore began to sing. A rhythmic drum picked up only seconds later, backed by the ethereal chime of bells. The haunting melody shivered down Shepard’s spine and she tipped her head to catch one of the women of the town, two desperately sobbing children clutched to her sides, raising her voice above their cries to sing her farewells.

Yuna danced on, spinning and leaping over the bay as her skirt and sleeves trailed after her. She dipped, twirling her staff like a baton as she rose and Shepard had to close her eyes against the sight of so many pyreflies rising from the sea. Her heart faltered and her lungs froze in her chest. She was grateful to be at the back of the crowd so that no one saw her grip the fatigues over her sternum with white knuckles. The torch fires guttered and Shepard’s eyes snapped open, unseeing, as they flared anew with blue flames. The ocean swelled beneath the summoner, lifting her as the rainbow lights spiraled loosely upwards. A man’s deep voice joined in the soulful chanting and a low howl sounded across the docks as the wind picked up. The Commander barely noticed another young woman collapse to her knees, shaking with the force of her tears. An elder followed her down, concern drawn in every line of her aged face.

The twining pyreflies slowed as Yuna did and she twisted once, twice more before coming to a rest facing the last rays of the sun. She didn’t seem to notice as the platform of water she stood upon lowered her gently back to the surface, her eyes raised to the darkening sky as the last of the dead dissolved into the growing night. Then she turned and stepped back onto the docks and the spell was broken. The song trailed off, drums and bells fading with it, and Shepard felt like she could finally breathe again. She released her cramped fingers one by one and tried to smooth the wrinkles in her shirt discreetly. Seeing all three of her fellow protectors move forward to embrace their charge, Shepard slipped back into the shadows of the ruined town. She needed to be alone to catalogue the phantom pains that had dug into her ribs. She didn’t see the pair of mismatched eyes watching her leave.

_This time when she dreamt, it was of a cold and desolate planet. She was numb and paralyzed, the chill in her bones and twining through her mind was not from the landscape she could barely see through fractured, snow-blind eyes. Ice crunched under boots nearby and she tried to move, to call out to whoever was there that she had survived but she found her voice frozen and her lungs shriveled in her chest. Almost against hope, her charred helmet was wrenched from her head and the darkened visor of another’s suit came into view. She wanted to cry when it turned away without acknowledgement, but soon she was being rolled gently onto a stretcher, pushed into a shuttle, and taken away from a planet that surely would have been her grave._

_Images flashed by then, ships and med bays and the interior of a too-white base. Faceless medics and soldiers swam in and out of her line of sight, until her view was washed out by a bright light placed directly over her bed. She tried to close her eyes, to snap at the doctors to move the lamp, anything, but her lungs still refused to draw breath and her lids refused to shut. The tendrils of ice in her mind sank deeper and the chill seeped from her bones to her blood even though she could feel the warmth of the room around her. Turning her focus inward, she began to try to catalogue her injuries, as she did every time she was submitted to a medic’s tender mercies, but her thoughts stuttered before they could start._

_Her heart did not beat and she screamed without sound._


End file.
